He's Fire, She's the Ocean
by idcabtthisish
Summary: How Effie came to be involved in the Revolution, which is how Hayffie came to be. Mulit-chapter. Title taken from Teitur 'You're the Ocean.' Starts w/ Hunger Games and goes through Mockingjay. Spoilers. Rated M. Canon compliant. Of course Everlark is mentioned/hinted at, along with Annie/Finnick. Appearances by Chaff, Finnick, Johanna, Annie, Plutarch, Coin, etc. Enjoy, & pls R&R
1. Chapter 1

**HELLLLOOOO! So! I've decided to write a mutli-chapter Hayffie fan fic. Originally I wanted it to be in Effie's POV only, but there's a scene in my head that involves Haymitch and Cinna, so you'll see inside the head of these three characters.**

 **This story will be canon compliant, as always. At least for the most part. It was inspired by the line where Katniss is told that Plutarch and Haymitch "fought for Effie's life." That was proof enough for me that Effie was somewhat involved, because why on earth would they care if she had lived otherwise? On that note, when you see lines you recognize (be it from the books or the movies), know that I'm not Suzanne Collins, and have absolutely no desire to be. I write fan fic to better her world, because it needed bettering.**

 **FYI, what I love about multi-chapter fan fics is I can have my Reviewer's input. I'd love to hear your ideas and where you want to see the story go.**

 **Also, please be honest with me. I like making sure that I'm staying in character. Staying true to a character is the most important thing to me. Mostly all of my Hayffie fan fics are in Haymitch's POV. He's easy to write. Effie… Effie is challenging. Let me know how I do. Look out for typos, too! I'm not afraid or offended at corrections.**

 **Last but not least, I look forward to hearing from all of you. I know Hayffie fan fic doesn't get much attention, but it's out there. Show it some love! LOL**

 **-thamockingjayandpeeta**

CHAPTER ONE

Words: 1,694

She didn't bother knocking when she entered his cabin. After twenty years there was no need—or no room at this point, really—for such pleasantries. She found him sitting on his bed, using his shirt of all things, to clean the blood off of his face.

"Honestly, Haymitch," she sighed, and she made her way over to his en suite bathroom and grabbed a face towel, soaking it in hot water, and then dabbing it with rubbing alcohol. After wringing it out she wandered over to him, crouching down in front of him, in her brand new green dress no less.

He frowned as she moved his shirt out of the way, and then cursed when she placed the towel on his cut lip.

He shrunk back, cursing her name, and pushing her away.

"Stop acting like such a baby," she snapped out, slapping his hand away and reapplying the pressure. "You're a former Victor. You've _certainly_ endured worse than this."

That shut him up, as mentioning his Games always did, and he scowled at her.

She ignored him.

When she finished cleaning his cut she gently wiped at his face. He had a smaller cut on his eyebrow that he hissed at when she applied a little too much pressure, and she gave him a soft sorry.

"We have our first volunteer," she said gently after a few more moments of silence.

"Well nothing certainly ever gets passed you," said Haymitch sarcastically, and she could smell his spirits on his breath. 'Sept maybe everything."

She didn't respond; just kept cleaning his face. When he looked better she returned to the bathroom, rinsing off the bloody towel, and placing in the dirty clothes hamper.

It'd probably be the only thing to make it in there within the next day and a half.

She walked back up to him as he stood and poured himself another drink, staring into his cold gray eyes. "She's different, Haymitch. I can feel it in my bones. 12 has never had a Volunteer."

"And I bet that bird brain of yours is already trying to figure out how you can move up to the next District now."

She cringed. She always did, when he directed that very first deadly insult of the year to her. The rest of them she normally could shake off. But that first one…

Well that first cut's always the deepest, isn't it?

She turned and walked away, but stopped when she reached the door. She didn't immediately turn around and face him.

"In nineteen years you've done a lot of things, Haymitch, on the day of the Reaping. You've shown up drunk, you've shown up late, you've nearly not shown up. But you have never gone quite this far." Now she turned to look at him. "It's quite clever. Calculating." She paused, lowering her voice. "Some might say _rebellious_ , even." He kept his face completely and totally neutral, except for the eyes. They widened, just enough. "I expect you to go out there and talk to our Tributes, and soon." She had returned her voice to its normal volume. "And change that shirt before you do."

 **XxXxXxXx**

Effie sighed, rubbing her eyes. It was late, but she had to finish her schedule. She'd probably be done with it and already tucked into bed if Haymitch hadn't passed out drunk.

And poor Peeta—such a sweet boy, really—had to clean him up. She wished she hadn't run into them. Sometimes she felt there were some things she was better off not knowing.

She pinched the bridge of her nose and sat back on the couch. This was pointless. She couldn't concentrate.

Another year, two new Tributes.

How much longer could she do this? When the hell would it all end? How many years did she have to watch them all die….?

Effie felt like she was suffocating. She could feel something clawing at her.

They were trying to kill her.

But she would not go down without a fight.

She hit whoever her attacker was. Why couldn't she see him?

But she could smell him.

He smelled like bourbon and scruff and—

"Effie! Effie, got damn it wake up!"

Gasping for air Effie sat up, looking around, her eyes wild, her wig askew.

She saw something move back quickly and her eyes rested on—

"Haymitch," she gasped, placing her hand over her heart. She continued looking around, realizing she was still on the train, on her way to the Capitol. She had fallen asleep on the couch while attempting to finish tomorrow's schedule.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" asked Haymitch, his voice cold, a glass of liquor in his hand. "Gonna wake up the whole damn train."

She gulped for air. "Just a… nightmare. I'm fine."

She wans't fine. She was pale, her skin was clammy, and she was shaking.

"A nightmare?" Haymitch scoffed. "What happened, Princess, break a nail?" he snarled as he took a drink.

She didn't answer. Instead she got up, running to the sink, and emptied her stomach.

She clutched the sink afterwards, willing herself to breathe, just _breathe_ , damn it, because she was not about to lose it, right here, right now, in front of Haymitch Abernathy. She grabbed a towel and wiped herself clean, and then rinsed out the sink, trying to gather her nerves.

"Effie…." How softly he'd said her name brought the tears to her eyes, but she was not about to let them fall. She refused. "What on earth do _you_ get nightmares about?" As if to make up for his momentary compassion, he asked her this question with mockery in his voice.

It was things like this that reminded her why she hated the man. Like there was no way it ever crossed his mind that she could hurt, that she could bleed, that she could _feel_.

She turned around, meeting his eyes with a stern, angry glare. "I suspect the same bloody thing _you_ get nightmares about every night." The coolness in her voice shocked even her, and she saw the surprise in his eyes at her words, and for some reason, that pissed her off even more. "Don't look so shocked, Haymitch. Of _course_ I've heard you over the past nineteen years. You think I don't know that you always carry a knife on you? You think I don't hear your knife slicing the air at night? But I shouldn't be surprised that you don't hear me waking up from my own screams. You're normally passed out drunk by this time."

And with that she threw the towel down in the sink and marched off, never glancing back.

If she had, she might have seen the glare.

And she might have gotten a glimpse of the guilt.

 **XxXxXx**

She had long ago learned to keep her door slightly ajar. It was the only way she could get Haymitch to not burst in, because he was never going to knock. One time she had barely finished putting her dress on when he had barged in, asking about another bottle of liquor. He'd stopped dead in his tracks, as it was clear she was barely done dressing. Her dress wasn't even zipped up.

He'd turned around and left, and they never spoke of it, except for Effie telling him that her door was always open, unless it was closed.

So when Haymitch pushed her door open after breakfast, he didn't walk in on her dressing or undressing, as he noticed the door cracked open.

"You were right," he said without preamble, leaning against the doorframe, a bottle in his hand.

She was sitting at her vanity, sipping some colorful drink, papers scattered around her desk, and she locked eyes with him in the mirror. "I'm right a lot," said Effie. "Care to be more specific?"

She saw the corners of his mouth twitch and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.

They did not _smile_ or _joke_ with each other.

"About the girl." Effie just arched an eyebrow. "Both of them, really. So. I need you to do the shit you do—"

"I always do."

"And I'll finally do the shit I'm supposed to do," continued Haymitch, as if she hadn't interrupted. "Since… you know… I am their lifeline."

Refusing to blush as he'd overheard her complimenting him, she turned to him. "Okay." He didn't leave, like she thought he would, but lingered. "Anything else?" She understood she was being a little rude, and quite cool with Haymitch, but she hated that she'd been so vulnerable last night.

"Uh… yah. I might… I might of got into it with the boy this morning."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Got into it… how?"

"He spilled my liquor so… we might have fought a little."

She stood up. "He… fought back?"

Now he grinned. "He actually started it. I would have been proud, except…"

"Except he spilled your liquor." It took the utmost restraint on her part not to roll her eyes, but her sarcasm wasn't lost on him.

He made to leave when she remembered something. "Haymitch." She listened to him as he made his way back to her room, popping his head in.

"I got a call earlier today. We were… given a new prep team."

Haymitch's eyebrows shot into his hairline. "What?"

"I think it was because Katniss volunteered. A friend of mine from the Capitol told me everyone's already buzzing. I can spin this in our favor, particularly now that we have an up and coming fashion designer. His name is Cinna, and he's all the rage in the Capitol."

He stared at her for a long time, not saying anything. He was calculating something, but she wasn't sure what.

"Do what you can to see if he'll make Katniss and Peeta stand out."

"I've already spoken to him. He's a got a few ideas about coal and—"

Haymitch scowled. "Original," he said dryly.

This time Effie did roll her eyes. Well if he was just going to interrupt…. "Goodbye, Haymitch."

He didn't respond. Just turned around and left, the bottle to his lips.


	2. Chapter 2

**HEY! So FYI I haven't gotten a post schedule yet, like with Rise From the Ashes (how I posted every Thursday). As soon as I get a few chapters under my belt, I'll let you all know when to expect updates. In the meantime, please be patient!**

 **Thanks for the early Reviews! I try to always respond to every Review, so I do communicate back.**

 **S/N: I wanted to start right off and show that Effie wasn't as clueless as people think. I've made her a little darker, a little edgier in her thoughts. I don't think there was just one major event that made Effie change her mind about her beloved Capitol. I think there were probably many little things over the years, with the Quarter Quell announcement being the final thing. So forgive me if she seems a little O/C. I wanted it clear that in MY story, the way Katniss perceives Effie is not the real Effie Trinket. I want it clear that it's an act.**

 **For now: enjoy!**

 **-thamockingjayandpeeta**

CHAPTER TWO

Words: 2,126

Knowing Haymitch had already told them to mind their prep team, Effie told her Tributes to smile big and keep their chins up as they left the train. Then she backtracked and went to Haymitch's room.

She assumed he was nursing a hangover as he was currently sitting on the bed, his hands over his face.

"Haymitch, please get up so we can get off this train."

He ignored her.

"I know you hate it here. I get it. But you can't stay here forever. Katniss and Peeta need you."

He sighed and stood up, and Effie noticed his tie was crooked.

Probably because he tied it drunk.

She placed her clipboard with her schedule down on the bed and started fixing his tie.

He let her.

"By the way," she said softly, coolly, calmly, but dark, ice blue Capitol eyes met drunken gray Seam eyes, "If you _ever_ touch one of our Tributes again…" she gave him a cold smile, "I will slit your throat with the knife you so desperately cling to."

Then she yanked his tie tightly around his neck, causing him to gasp.

She let him go before he lost his temper, not that that was difficult, and turned around, grabbing her clipboard.

"We have a meeting scheduled with Cinna. Come along, Haymitch."

She'd reached the door when he'd grabbed her waist, just enough to startle her, and let her know the touch wasn't affectionate. "You pull a stunt like that again, Trinket, and they won't be able to find your body." His voice was low, deadly, and serious.

She turned around to face him. "Darling, you'd be doing me a favor if you killed me."

With that, she exited the train.

It took Haymitch a few moments to catch up to her.

 **XxXxXxXx**

Cinna was waiting for them—early, because she was hardly ever late—looking cool as a cucumber, sipping a drink. When he saw them he stood, a smile on his face.

He wasn't anything spectacular by Capitol standards; one might even call Cinna normal. But he was extremely handsome with his low haircut, smooth, regular coffee colored skin, and liquid brown eyes. His entire face lit up when he smiled, and his lips were soft upon both her cheeks, his hands gentle as they shook.

"It's such a pleasure to meet you!" exclaimed Effie, back to normal. "I've seen your work, of course."

"It's an honor," he bowed. "Effie Trinket is well-known in the fashion world. I can't believe I get to work with such glory."

Effie blushed prettily. "You are too kind. Cinna, I'd like to introduce you to our Mentor, Haymitch—"

"Abernathy," finished Cinna, and he extended a warm handshake to Haymitch. "Who doesn't know who you are? It's a pleasure."

Effie bit the inside of her cheek as she recognized the startled look in Haymitch's eyes.

"Please, sit down. May I offer you two anything to drink?"

"No, that's okay. We know you don't have much time." Effie ignored the scowl on Haymitch's face and continued. "I have to admit I'm quite surprised—and pleased—that you were given this District."

"I had to fight for it."

Haymitch's eyebrows shot up into his hair. "Why?"

"I wanted District 12. I think it's… intriguing." His eyes glistened as he took a dainty sip of his drink.

"Because the girl volunteered?" asked Haymitch gruffly.

"I wanted 12 before then, honestly." Haymitch just stared. Cinna cleared his throat. "I was anxious to meet you. Plutarch thought we'd click."

Effie felt the air around her thicken. She kept her face completely neutral, careful not to look too interested. Haymitch stiffened and the two men stared at each other for several moments, Haymitch's eyes unreadable, Cinna's eyes amused.

After a few moments Cinna turned his attention back to Effie. "I have quite a few ideas for Katniss and Peeta, like we discussed earlier. My partner, Portia, is seeing to some last minute changes, otherwise you'd have met her too. We're really excited to be working with them."

"We are so pleased to have you. Now… Katniss can be a little rough around the edges," Effie warned.

"I'm sure people can say the same thing about me," said Cinna with a smile.

"I highly doubt that," Effie responded.

"Listen." Cinna leaned forward, making eye contact with them both. "Keep calm when you see what I've done today. Just know your Tributes are safe, and that I have their best interest at heart. What I've got planned is going to raise some eyebrows." He glanced at Haymitch, who hadn't taken his eyes off of Cinna the entire time. "Some might even say rebellious."

Effie stayed absolutely still, her heart hammering.

At that moment something beeped. Cinna reached into his pocket and took out a cell phone, glancing at it. Then he stood up, coming around the table. Effie stood as well, and Haymitch took his time.

"I must get going. Katniss is nearly finished. I'll see you two in the penthouse at some point, I assume." He had another gentle kiss on the cheek for her, and another firm handshake for Haymitch, a mysterious smile on his face, and then he was gone.

"He was not at all what I expected," muttered Haymitch.

"He was ten times _better_ ," Effie breathed, and now he looked at her.

"You're much too old for him, Princess."

Effie straightened her dress. "That, Sir, was _rude_."

She bit her lip to keep from laughing once he started.

 **XxXxXxXx**

In her nineteen years of working with Haymitch she had never sought him out during the Opening Ceremony before. Her first year she'd been so offended about who he was an individual that she just wanted to escape. By the second year she realized that her and Haymitch had not been created to get along, and she took her time before rushing back in his presence.

Now, though, for the first time ever, after mingling and pleasantries and helloes, Effie made her way to the bar she knew Haymitch favored.

She frowned when she didn't find him. She thought he'd be here—he was _always_ here during the Opening Ceremony. She didn't even see Chaff, who Haymitch usually met up with.

Deciding not to worry about it, Effie took a seat and ordered something tropical as she waited for her Tributes' name to be called.

She nearly fell out of her seat when she saw them. They were _beautiful_ in their costumes, and her heart pounded in her chest as she heard the murmurs and whispers.

Those murmurs and whispers quickly turned into cheers and applause when Katniss and Peeta burst into flames.

Effie quickly stood up, her eyes wide, a smile on her face.

God bless Cinna.

Rebellious indeed.

Gathering her belongings, and placing her money on the table, Effie made her way out of the bar to go and find Haymitch.

 **XxXxXxXx**

"Effie! _Effie_!" Haymitch's voice caught her attention and she turned.

"I've been looking for you everywhere!" said Effie when she approached him, slightly out of breath. "Did you see—"

"I did. I need you to—"

"I'm already on it. I'll see you back at the Training Center with a list of Sponsors." He nodded.

As Effie made her way to towards the center of the Capitol she tried to ignore the fact that only a few hours in, she and Haymitch were working together. They both knew what they were supposed to do, and this time they were doing it.

He didn't even look that drunk.

This felt… _different_ than any other year. People never talked about 12, yet everywhere she went she overheard people talking about Katniss and Peeta. One idiot even had the nerve to state how putting enough pressure on coal makes pearls.

Effie tried not to roll her eyes, even as she made a mental note to use that.

Haymitch would certainly get a kick out of it.

She talked to the people she needed to talk to, playing up Katniss and Peeta. She knew how this worked: make them seem as unique as possible. Of course normally 12 Tributes were barbaric, but clearly Peeta and Katniss were different. Katniss especially was unique, after all she did volunteer for her twelve-year-old sister.

By the time she met Katnissa and Peeta at the Training Center she was practically bursting with excitement. She caught Katniss admiring the elevator and explained how as the lowest District they were given the Penthouse Suite. Then she mentioned how she had been talking to Sponsors and how everyone was so interested in them, and it was here she used that _ridiculously_ stupid line about coals turning into pearls, trying to keep her voice excited.

It was written all over their faces. They thought she was an idiot.

Good. That's just what she wanted them to think.

 **XxXxXx**

Growing up Effie had always wanted to serve Panem. Her father had an important job within the government, and he was her hero, even though it was her mother, a housewife, who taught her about manners and fashion.

Effie would be lying to herself if she didn't admit she loved modeling. She started young; by the time she was ten she had booked her first gig. By the time Haymitch had won his Game she'd made somewhat of a name for herself, even at thirteen.

But the desire to serve her Capitol had never wavered.

When she was eighteen, her father put in a good word for her, and she became an Escort.

She'd been convinced that she could do both: modeling was pleasure, Escorting was business. But after a few years… she sort of lost her edge. It hadn't taken long for the death to get to her. She quit modeling. Rumors that she was burnt out started to surface, which was fine with her.

She had her first breakdown five years in, in the dark of night. Some nights she couldn't even sleep. She started taking pills to help her, but those didn't stop the nightmares that plagued her. Instead they just made it more difficult for her to wake up.

Re-watching Haymitch's Hunger Game was the hardest thing she'd ever done. It made her sick to her stomach.

By her tenth year, she hated her Capitol, and everything it stood for, including herself.

She didn't dare ever whisper a word of this to anybody. Anybody who was even thought of knowing somebody who might rebel was killed.

But she started listening a little more. She started paying more attention. She'd been stripped of her innocence, her naivety, for several years, and she realized she couldn't just sit idle.

Nobody would probably ever confide in an Escort.

But she'd kick the door down if she ever found someone who was brave enough to give her a reason to hope.

There were some days she suspected Haymitch, but she very much doubted he'd ever tell her.

He didn't trust her.

Still, she damn near gave herself away at dinner, when Katniss had the audacity to talk about having met that damned Avox before.

"Don't be ridiculous, Katniss. How could you possibly know an Avox?" she snapped out. "The very thought." As soon as the words were out of her mouth she realized how harsh she had sounded, but fortunately they'd all already moved on.

Effie breathed a silent sigh of relief, until she glanced up and saw Cinna staring at her, his eyes surprised.

Effie looked away and became lost in her own thoughts. She wondered if Katniss _had_ known the Avox, but she couldn't figure out how. What would that girl have been doing in 12?

Thankfully the rest of dinner went by without incident. Too bad that changed once Katniss and Peeta left.

"You seemed pretty upset about Katniss knowing that Avox," commented Cinna without preamble.

Effie didn't have time to remind herself to keep her face neutral.

"I noticed that too," Haymitch said, his eyes suspicious. He took a sip of his liquor and arched an eyebrow.

"The things that girl says sometimes are just ridiculous," replied Effie, trying to make it seem like what Katniss said was crazy. Haymitch and Cinna glanced at each other, briefly, and then turned back to her. Before they could respond she moved on, trying to give herself away without giving herself. The look they shared wasn't missed on her. "I overheard someone saying that with the right pressure coal can be turned into a pearl." She rolled her eyes. "The things that some of these Capitol people say and do."

She headed off to bed, but not before the two of them shared another covert look.

Perhaps it'd be time to kick open that door soon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, so I've finished Hunger Games in Effie's POV…. That's the easiest way to do this multi-chap fic. I think it'll just be easier if I take it by book. This, of course, makes it difficult for Mockingjay, as Effie is hardly in the darn book. I thought about, briefly, very briefly, doing the movie version and having Effie in 13 but… idt I can do it. Besides, I really want to show Effie being tortured and some of the horrors she had to go through in having been captured. It hasn't been done in fanfic yet.**

 **IDK, what do you all think? I said I wanted your input, and I meant that.**

 **Also, I think I'm going to post every Tuesday. So from here on out, look for an update on that day. Go ahead and follow this story so you all can receive your updates.**

 **I'm headed to Austin for a quick turnaround trip. Should be fun.**

 **I look forward to your Reviews and suggestions when I get back.**

 **Hope yall are liking it so far!**

 **-thamockingjayandpeeta**

CHAPTER THREE

Words: 2,100

The next morning before breakfast Haymitch was at Effie's door bright and early.

She didn't even see a bottle of liquor.

She tried to hide her surprise.

"Well it's good to see you up and running," commented Effie, straightening out her purple dress. "To what do I owe this early visit?"

"What are the chances of you personally knowing Seneca Crane?" Haymitch asked.

Effie smiled. "Pretty good."

Haymitch's eyes narrowed. "How good is pretty good?"

Effie blushed. "Not _that_ good."

"Pity. I could certainly use a meeting with him."

Effie stiffened. "So you would expect me to what… pimp myself out like a Victor?"

Haymitch looked like someone had hit him. When he recovered he looked around. "You better be careful talking like that, Princess."

"What are you going do, Haymitch, turn me in? _You_ of all people?"

Haymitch stood stock-still. "What's that supposed to mean?" He didn't quite mask the panic in his voice.

"It means you mumble things when you're drunk." Effie was lying through her teeth. She had absolutely no concrete proof that Haymitch was apart of any rebellion. She just felt in her bones that if anybody were apart of it, it'd be him. Not to mention he did tend to make little snide comments about the Capitol, and he most certainly hated everything that represented the Capitol.

Including her.

"So why haven't you ever turned me in then?" asked Haymitch once he recovered.

Her heartbeat sped up. This was her chance. "Because I can't quite say I disagree with your point of view."

She made to walk past him but he grabbed her arm. They stared at each other for several moments, Haymitch's eyes searching, Effie's eyes innocent.

When he didn't say anything she said, "I'll see if I can get you that meeting with Seneca. Meanwhile your list of Sponsors is on the table near the door."

He let her go and she made her way to breakfast.

 **XxXxXxXx**

The next few days were a blur. She was constantly meeting somebody, or making plans to meet somebody, or leaving one meeting only to head to another. When she finally thought she had a break Haymitch would suggest someone new for her to go and talk to.

By the time she had finally squeezed a meeting in with Seneca she was relieved to just be seeing an old friend.

"You know we shouldn't be talking," he told her, his eyes dancing mischievously.

"Yes, I know. Thank you for coming."

"I only did because it's you, and because you can be quite persistent. My phone hasn't stopped ringing. What's so urgent?"

"I'm not asking for any special treatment or anything," Effie said, and Seneca rolled his eyes, and she gave him a smile. "It's Haymitch. He wants to meet with you."

"Are you two trying to get me killed? As Gamekeeper there is no way—"

"Oh don't give me that, Seneca. I've been doing this for nearly twenty years now." Seneca sighed and looked away. "Oh, I get it: you talk to Mentors from higher Districts." His silence was here confirmation. "Well I apologize for wasting both of our time."

She started to walk off when Seneca gently grabbed her arm. "Wait," he said. "Does it mean a lot to you?"

"It means a lot to him, or he wouldn't have asked." Something flickered in his eyes, but before Effie could put a name to it, it was gone.

"Fine. Tell Haymitch sometimes he can catch me on the North Stairwell, normally when the majority of the Tributes have fallen asleep. I doubt he'll catch me before the start of the Games."

"What about during the day?"

"I take lunch at one, in the same place," he said reluctantly.

"Thank you, Seneca. If there's anything I can do—"

"Have lunch with me, when the Games are all over."

"I don't ever need an excuse to eat lunch with a friend."

She gave him a smile and turned and walked away, feeling only slightly guilty.

 **XxXxXxXx**

The news that Katniss had shot a bow at the Gamemakers nearly clouded the success of the past three days.

"You _what_?" asked Effie, her heart in her throat. She thought she might cry when Katniss repeated her story. So the Gamemakers ignored them… that does not give one the excuse to be _rude_.

Effie was just about to say that when Cinna asked the real million-dollar question: "And what did they say?"

"I don't know. I walked out on them," replied Katniss.

"Without being dismissed?" Effie gasped.

"I dismissed myself," said Katniss, and Effie briefly closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

"Well that's that," Haymitch said, and then buttered a roll.

Effie tried not to breathe an audible sigh of relief. If Haymitch was nonchalant about it, all was fine.

She knew him.

She trusted him.

Which was weird figuring this was the first time they'd ever really, truly worked together.

It was just so natural.

Even if he did piss her off with his horrible table manners. Still, when the laughter rang out across the table after Katniss explained how one man fell into the punchbowl, it took quite an effort not to laugh with them.

"Well it serves them right. It's their job to pay attention to you. And just because you come from District 12 is no excuse to ignore you." She'd said too much. She knew it by the shocked looks on their faces, particularly Portia, Cinna and Haymitch. Still, she couldn't quite find a reason to care. "I'm sorry but that's what I think."

When Portia shared a quick look with Cinna, she made a mental note.

The more she paid attention, the more she realized how obvious it was.

Portia, Cinna, and Haymitch….

Well she certainly hoped the odds were in their favor.

And hers.

Shortly after dinner everybody made their way to watch the revealing of the scores, and conspiracies and covert looks were forgotten. There was surprise all around when Rue scored a seven, and everybody was happy when Peeta scored an eight.

Effie could hardly contain her surprise and elation of Katniss scoring an 11.

Effie couldn't ignore the feeling that this year would change everything.

Girl on Fire indeed.

 **XxXxXxXx**

Later that night Haymitch came to her room.

"Peeta just confided that he wanted to be trained alone," he told her, and she turned around to face him.

"Can't say I'm all that surprised," said Effie thoughtfully.

"I don't like it."

"Neither do I." He walked into her room and poured himself a drink.

She let him.

"Talk to me about Peeta. I mean besides the fact that he loves Katniss."

Haymitch jerked, nearly spilling his drink, as he stared at her. " _What_?"

Effie wasn't able to not roll her eyes. "Honestly, you Seam people and your inability to see what's right in front of you." Now she poured herself a drink, ignoring his piercing gaze. "Just trust me okay? Call it woman's intuition."

"Don't see no woman around here, but okay." He took a sip of his drink and then noticed the fire in Effie's eyes. "Oh, come on. You know I had to." He gave her a smile that she didn't return. Instead she changed the subject, turning her back on him and walking towards her dresser.

"I talked to Seneca." He stared at her, wide-eyed as she put down her drink and opened her drawer.

"When the hell were you gonna tell me?"

"I believe I just did," she responded coolly, walking to her bed and unfolding a nightgown. "He says he doesn't have time to meet with you before the Games, but oftentimes you can catch him in the North Stairwell when all the Tributes are asleep, or during his lunch break at one."

He raised his glass to her. "Well worth the conversation tonight, Trinket."

"Goodnight, Mr. Abernathy."

That night she dreamt that she was drowning in a pool of liquor. Peeta was trying to help her, but he just wasn't strong enough.

The night was as dark as a pair of Seam gray eyes.

Whether they were Haymitch's or Katniss', she didn't know.

By the time dawn arrived she was dressed and ready for the day.

No one needed to know she hardly slept last night.

When she got to breakfast she was shocked to see Haymitch already there.

"Couldn't sleep either?" asked Effie, and slightly startled, he looked up at her.

"Nother nightmare?" Effie raised an eyebrow. It was the first time he'd ever acknowledged that night on the train. He looked as if he'd just eaten something sour at the question, so she decided to put him out of his misery and not address it.

"I think we should try and talk Peeta out of training alone," said Effie instead.

"I agree."

Effie sat down and poured herself a cup of coffee, all the while wondering if Haymitch was really seeing her for the first time.

He was fighting it tooth and nail, but she was getting to him.

And maybe, when it was all said and done, she wouldn't have to kick down any door. She'd much rather mind her manners, knock politely, and be invited in.

She excused herself to go and wake Katniss and Peeta, and then returned to the table to start eating.

When Peeta came to breakfast before Kantniss both Effie and Haymitch took that as a sign.

Or not.

After half an hour of whispering back and forth they realized that Peeta Mellark was just as stubborn as Katniss Everdeen.

When Katniss did finally come down the three of them stopped talking and ate in silence.

That was mistake number one. It didn't take much for the girl to catch on.

Devastated was the only emotion that Effie saw in Katniss' eyes, though it was quickly masked away. The girl was hurt, but she wouldn't show it. If anything she'd probably parade around like it was a relief to finally have things out in the open. After all, there could only be _one_ winner.

So Effie would play along with her, giving her a smile as Haymitch explained Katniss would spend four hours with her, while Peeta was coached by Haymitch, and then vice versa.

When the four of them started to split up, Effie reached out to Haymitch, just a simple, gentle brush on his arm. He looked at her.

She straightened his tie, keeping her voice low as neither Katniss nor Peeta were paying much attention, and said, "Mind your manners, and mind your temper. Keep your hands to yourself."

"And you don't lecture Katniss to death," he told her, and Effie smiled.

"If I've spent nineteen years with you, I can handle Katniss Everdeen for four hours."

"Hey, we pull out a victory, you don't have to deal with me anymore. You can move on up—"

"Shut up, Haymitch," said Effie coldly. "That's not funny." He shut up, surprised. "Give our boy a chance. Everybody can see from a mile away you're rooting for Katniss. Don't forget Peeta's our Tribute too."

She turned away from him and started coaching Katniss once they were alone.

It was obvious the girl didn't understand the point, and at this point in her life and career, Effie didn't get it, either. The Tributes were about to kill people in an Arena designed to make them fail, yet here they were learning how to walk in heels.

Granted for Effie it was a great pastime. It reminded her of her younger days with her mother, being taught the very same techniques Effie now taught to her Tributes. It was a way for her to escape for a few hours, and just be a regular woman, even if the circumstances were anything but.

Katniss' spirit drained her, though Effie kept up her façade. When she sent Katniss off to Haymitch, Effie was relieved.

Peeta was much easier to coach, though he seemed tense, but for a different reason, and Effie found herself wondering what he and Haymitch had talked about. Even with the worry evident in Peeta's eyes, the four hours with him passed by much quicker and much smoother, and before long, they made their way down to where the Interviews would be held, along with the rest of the group.

It doesn't take long for Effie to feel the tension between Katniss and Haymitch.

She puzzles over it to distract herself from how good Haymitch looks.

He's very nearly sober, and looks extremely smart.

But she won't think about it.

She refuses to.


	4. Chapter 4

**HEY! It's Tuesday, which mean it's time for your weekly update! I am twenty-five chapters in, and the Quarter Quell is about to start. But I'm getting ahead of myself. For you all it's only chapter 4 LOL. I hope you all enjoy it! Let me know what you all think.**

 **-thamockingjayandpeeta**

CHAPTER FOUR

Words: 2,256

Effie whispered a few more tips and encouraging words to Peeta and Katniss, and then sent them off.

"Their outfits are once again impeccable," Effie commented to Cinna and Portia. "You two outdid yourselves."

"They're Cinna's designs," said Portia, glancing at Cinna, and the admiration reflected in her eyes was evident. "I just work off of his brilliance."

"We work off of each others," and Portia's light brown face flushed flirtatiously. Cinna walked up to her, holding out his arm. "Shall we?"

It was like Effie and Haymitch didn't even exist.

"They are adorable," Effie sighed once Cinna and Portia were on the elevator.

"I thought you had a thing for Cinna," said Haymitch.

Effie threw back her head and laughed. "Don't be silly. Cinna is simply divine, as is Portia. But I don't doubt she'd skin me alive if she thought for a single moment I was after Cinna."

While the other Tributes started their Interviews, Effie pulled Haymitch away and they made their way to another level in order to watch the Interviews.

"I can tell by the look on your face that it didn't go well with Katniss," she said, her voice questioning.

"Katniss is… she's…" he scowled, his eyes darkening. "She'll a drive a man to drink, she will. She's stubborn, and self-righteous, and down right uncoachable. And what the fuck are you smiling you at?"

Effie couldn't even chastise him for his bad language; she was too amused. "She's just like you," and she couldn't quite hide the affection in her voice. "It must be a Seam thing."

"Watch it, Trinket."

"I'm not insulting you, Haymitch," sighed Effie, no longer smiling. "Her being like you is quite the compliment. Yes, you're both stubborn, hard to talk to, self-righteous, and have wicked tempers. But you're also both smart, resourceful, and strong." She noticed his top button was undone and started to button it, even though she knew he'd undo it again shortly. "There's nothing terribly wrong with being like Haymitch Abernathy. You, after all, are a Victor."

Having finished buttoning his shirt, she walked out of the elevator and into the suite without so much as a backwards glance.

 **XxXxXxXx**

They watched the rest of the Interviews together in silence, only muttering to both the other and themselves when a particular Tribute caught their attention.

"The Careers are—"

"Brilliant, as usual," agreed Haymitch, rolling his eyes and taking a sip of his wine.

"That Rue is simply to _die_ for though, isn't she?"

Haymitch snorted. "Literally," and she shot him a nasty look. "Katniss told me that Rue was following her during training."

"Maybe they'll be allies," said Effie thoughtfully.

"That'd be a plus for Rue," Haymitch said, and Effie decided that he was trying to upset her, so she shut up. "I'm yanking your chain, Princess."

"Stop _calling_ me that."

"I remember that Rue scored a seven," continued Haymitch, as if she hadn't said anything." Then a short pause, and a quick glance. "Princess."

She wanted to take a bottle and smash it over his head, but she refused to give him the satisfaction, no matter how tempting.

Their banter quickly ended and a nervous energy surrounded them once Katniss' face appeared on the screen.

But they figured out early on that they didn't need to be worried. Katniss was absolutely charming, and she had the audience eating out of the palm of her hands. Not before a few mishaps, of course, but that was okay.

"It doesn't seem like you two were at odds at all!" exclaimed Effie as she kept listening.

"That… wasn't me." He shook his head and took another sip of his wine. "Trust me…. It was probably—" Realization dawned upon him then. "Cinna," he finished.

Effie smiled, her focus still on the television. "God bless that man," she said softly, though Haymitch still heard.

He didn't quite hide his scowl.

As Caesar Flickerman started to interview Peeta, Effie felt a burst of pride for the baker. He was perfect, in every sense of the word. He was a natural, and the crowd loved him. As the Interview ended, however, Effie felt her stomach drop.

" _Because she came here with me_ ," Peeta said, and the words echoed in Effie's head.

She turned to Haymitch in disbelief. "You… you turned…" She couldn't even speak as she stared at Haymitch. "You went and used what I told you _against_ Peeta?!"

"No," snapped out Haymitch, his eyes flashing as they locked with hers. " _He_ confided in _me,_ okay? I never breathed one word to the boy. I was actually upset that I _didn't_ pick up on it. Do you know how we could have sold this story? Did you hear the audience? They know what it's like to love someone they can never have. It's gold."

"Yes, but that works in _Katniss'_ favor, Haymitch! You _know_ that."

Haymitch made to respond but at that moment Effie realized the Interviews were over.

"It doesn't matter," she said, placing her glass down on the side table. "But both of our Tributes deserved a chance, Haymitch," she said angrily, and then she made her way to the elevator. Haymitch threw back the rest of his drink and followed, muttering something along the lines of not being able to please everybody. Effie ignored this. "If I know Katniss, she's going to be royally pissed."

They might have gotten there in enough time to stop everything from unfolding but Portia and Cinna were on a different floor, forcing the elevator to stop.

When they reached the correct floor it didn't take long for Haymitch and Effie to see how angry Katniss was. Peeta was on the ground bleeding and Effie couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

These damned people from the Seam and their inability to know, understand, and appreciate love. They were crazy, both of them, really. Literally insane. And if Katniss had half a brain she'd be bowing down at Peeta's feet and kissing Haymitch. The man was completely brilliant, even if he was a blind idiot.

While Haymitch shouted at Katniss, and spoke complete truth, Effie listened as the two bickered back and forth, keeping an eye out for any sign that Katniss was pushing Haymitch too far.

Effie knew the signs, knew the look. Lord knows she'd done it enough times over the years.

Sure enough Haymitch pinned Katniss to the wall, and Effie was about to intervene when she felt a hand holding her back. She turned around to see Cinna shaking his head slightly.

When Katniss pushed herself away Effie heard Cinna tell the girl that Haymitch was right.

When Katniss finally understood this, a crisis was averted.

The Star-Crossed Lovers story had begun.

Effie, as smart as she was, had no idea how important and life-changing this would be.

 **XxXxXxXx**

"You still mad at me?"

Effie realized that Haymitch must have darkened her doorway more times this Game than all nineteen years combined.

She turned to him, having just touched up her makeup, and shook her head. "No. We both know that between the two of them, Katniss is the one coming out of this Arena. It just… gets old, Haymitch."

She walked over to her bar area and poured each of them a glass.

"I want the hard stuff," muttered Haymitch.

"Beggars can't be choosers." She handed him half a glass of red wine. "You've been drinking red wine all day. Mixing liquors is what causes you to be sick."

He could ask her how she knew he'd been drinking red wine all day. He could also scold her for lecturing him, as if _he_ of all people didn't know the rules of drinking.

But he did neither.

"Where's the rest of it?" Haymitch asked, staring at the low amount, and Effie smiled.

"You've been drinking less and less, Haymitch. I doubt you even noticed, but these kids have all your attention. Even more than your liquor."

He looked down at his glass and then took a large gulp, drinking half the contents. He was doing it to upset her, but she knew him by now, and she didn't let it bother her.

"I guess they kind of got us working together, too," he said after he drank.

"So you noticed," said Effie dryly.

"I noticed you're not as hateable as I thought you were."

Effie blinked. "I'm pretty sure 'hateable' is not a word."

He paused for a moment and then grinned, his eyes twinkling, and it gave her butterflies, it did, because when he smiled his entire face lit up.

Another thing he had in common with Katniss.

"You're alright, you know that Effie Trinket?"

"Nineteen years and you hardly figured that out?" Her voice was dismissive.

At those words he finished the rest of his wine. "You're still a right pain in the ass, as you just proved, but you're not half bad." He walked over to her bar and sat down her glass. "And Princess, you haven't felt this way for nineteen years. Almost fifteen, maybe, but not nineteen."

He walked towards the door, smiling smugly at her stunned expression.

When he reached the door he finally turned and looked at her. "I pay attention, Effie. You might not always think I do, but I see you. You've just never really given me a reason to give a flying fuck until this year."

"So what changed?" Effie arched an eyebrow.

His resolve slipped, and he frowned. "I think I did. Maybe it's because, like you said, I'm drinking less and less, and maybe it has to do with the fact that I genuinely believe Katniss has a chance. Whatever it is, I was finally forced to acknowledge the change in you. I aint' sayin' we best friends or nothin'. But… you're alright, Princess."

She watched him walk away, totally and utterly confused.

Somehow, someway, she and Haymitch had just had a moment.

 **XxXxXxXx**

This part... the part of the goodbye, had never been so hard. Dinner had been a blur, and she hardly touched any of her food. She watched as Peeta and Portia headed off to fix his hand, feeling wildly maternal, and felt relief when they came back, Peeta's hand all bandaged up.

She got emotional watching the recap of the Interviews. Peeta, ever the charmer, was such a kind, sweet boy, really.

The air thickened considerably when the recap was over, and they all stood there for several moments, unsure of what do say and do. She'd never had Tributes she really expected something of.

And then her emotions got the best of her, and with tears in her eyes, she pulled them to her.

"You've been the best Tributes I've ever had the privilege to Sponsor," she sniffed, and they were all looking at her with surprise.

Except Cinna. He didn't seem surprised at all.

Haymitch was frowning at her.

She observed all this in a few seconds, and then quickly turned her attention back to Katniss and Peeta. "I wouldn't be at all surprised if I finally get promoted to a decent District next year!"

She could barely choke out the words.

As if.

They'd have to kill her first.

Still, the damage was done. Katniss couldn't quite hide her disgust, and Haymitch scowled.

Cinna, though, smiled, and gave her a wink.

He knew.

After Haymitch told their Tributes to stay alive, she sent them off to bed, and for once Effie and Haymitch walked in the same direction: towards the bar.

Cinna approached her, pouring himself a drink and then turning to her.

"You're an incredible actress, Effie Trinket," he said softly. "If you can look me in my eyes and tell me you'd change Districts if you could, I'll set myself on fire." Effie kept her mouth shut. "Do you trust me, Effie?"

"As much as I trust Haymitch."

At these words he smiled, his eyes dazzling. "That, I'm sure, is the of highest compliment. Meet me tonight, in my room. Don't tell Haymitch. Act completely normal."

"I'll pretend that I'm calling it an early night, but I'll be there."

"I thought you might say that."

He winked at her and Effie watched as he made his way over to Portia.

She shot back a couple of drinks, quickly, and was on her third when Haymitch approached her.

"What the hell are you doin'? You're gonna drink up all the liquor."

She rolled her eyes, swallowing back her third drink. "That is _your_ job," she said, slamming the glass down. She poured herself another cup and Haymitch snatched the bottle. "Seriously, Ef, what's wrong with you?"

Without answering she swallowed her drink. "Give me the bottle back, Haymitch." Her voice was quiet, but her eyes were blazing.

"You're gonna get yourself drunk."

"What the hell do you care?"

He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, and then shut it, as if he changed his mind. Shrugging he finally handed her back the bottle and she poured another shot.

"The nightmares are always the worst the night before the Games," she whispered out to him, and she saw his glass stop in midair from being about to take a drink. He slowly lowered his glass as they made eye contact. "I don't want to dream tonight. I just want to sleep, wake up, and then root for Peeta and Katniss." Haymitch didn't respond, so she bid him goodnight.

She felt his gaze on her back until she disappeared.


	5. Chapter 5

**SO I decided to post an extra chapter today, just for the heck of it. Those of you from Rise From the Ashes know I'm privy to that every now and then. I also wanted to do so because YES, I've changed the title of this story. I never liked the title to begin with. I wanted to have a title that involved fire, but to me that's more Haymitch than Effie. I wanted 'Just Gonna Stand There and Watch me Burn' (Rihanna Love the Way You Lie II) but I quickly shot that down. Then I heard "You're the Ocean" and I'm like OMG! Here's a song to describe Effie AND Haymitch. SO, new title.**

 **Thanks ya'll!**

 **-thamockingjayandpeeta**

CHAPTER FIVE

Words: 2,104

The next morning Effie and Haymitch made their way to Headquarters. The car ride wasn't at all like it usually was. Normally Haymitch was hung over and/or sleeping, or drinking like a fish, his suit a wrinkled mess. There's also usually a feeling of dread sitting firmly in the middle of Effie's stomach, never relenting.

This time, though, Haymitch is wide-awake, and though he's nursing a drink, he's sipping it, his eyes alert, his suit crisp and clean. Effie is a bundle of nerves, her stomach still filled with dread, but also something that felt deliciously like hope.

Haymitch tenderly placed his hand on top of her knee, and she freezes.

"Breathe, Princess," he says gently, in a voice he's hardly ever used before. She glanced from his hand, still on her knee, to his eyes.

He removed his hand and she immediately went back to tapping her foot.

He puts his hand back on her knee and she stops.

"You ain't helpin' the situation," he told her. "Do you want a drink?"

"Yes," breathed Effie, and then, "No. No. Never mind."

He grinned at her. "Afraid to turn out like me?" Effie didn't respond. "You need something to calm your nerves. That foot tappin' is driving me crazy."

"I'm okay," said Effie.

For the second time he removed his hand, and she immediately felt the loss of contact. She thought about tapping her foot again just to feel him, but she thought better of it.

Besides, she couldn't think about Haymitch at a time like this.

Peeta and Katniss should be on her mind.

But surprisingly, they weren't. Instead she thought about last year's Tributes, and how they died at the Cornucopia, as had the Tributes before them, and the ones before those.

None of their Tributes had ever made it past the first night.

Was it foolish and naïve to hope right now, when deep down she knew that the odds were hardly in their favor?

Well _this_ year they were, but they never had been before.

Well… actually they had.

Twenty-four years ago.

Effie snuck a glance at Haymitch. She wondered how it'd be for him if Katniss or Peeta won. Would he be happy? Excited? Relieved?

But then she realized she was getting ahead of herself.

The Games hadn't even started yet.

Katniss and Peeta still had to get passed Cornucopia.

They arrived an hour before the Games were to start. They were supposed to be mingling, which Effie normally did, but today she found she was too nervous. They were also allowed to eat, as food was being served around the clock, but she didn't have much of an appetite either.

When they arrived in their Penthouse Suite Effie looked around. So much looked the same, but so much was different. In nineteen years their suite had changed several times in order to keep up with the times.

But if these walls could talk….

They'd have nineteen years worth of memories, most of them bad, horribly bad, and normally involving a drunk or passed out Haymitch—or both, in most cases. He normally only stayed one night, and then he would be back on the earliest train to 12.

As an Escort Effie was required to stay until the end of the Games, but as a Mentor Haymitch was asked to stay.

He never did.

He never even said goodbye.

Most of the time she was relieved to see him go.

They had had many fights here, too. Many accusations of if he would just _try_ their Tributes might stand a chance. If he wouldn't drink as much, their Tributes might survive. If he wasn't so sarcastic. If he wasn't so spiteful.

If she weren't so annoying. If she did something besides talk about manners. If she understood anything, ever.

If she wasn't such a Capitol bitch.

And deep down Effie knew she wasn't any of those things, but how do you tell Haymitch Abernathy of all people that?

Effie shook her head to clear all of these thoughts.

This year was different.

It had to be.

She followed the Avox, who was carrying her suitcase, to her room, and then she grabbed her clipboard and started looking at the list of Sponsors she would give to Haymitch.

If their Tributes made it that far.

They never had before, she reminded herself.

When it was nearly time for the Games to start, Effie made her way back into the living room, where she found Haymitch, a full glass in his hand, sitting on the couch.

A few moments later, Claudius Templesmith makes his infamous announcement: "Let the 74th Hunger Games… begin!"

Effie and Haymitch stood in front of the TV, standing side by side, a stark contrast to what they did every year before. Normally he'd be near the bar, not even watching the television, and she'd be the one facing the screen.

Now, however, they stood together, both tense, Haymitch with his arms folded, his sleeves rolled up to a quarter sleeve, his eyes glued to the screen, and Effie trying very hard not pace.

It didn't take long for the pressure to consume her. There was no way she could stand still for these first sixty seconds.

"Don't do it, Sweetheart," muttered Haymitch as he stared at Katniss, and they both saw Peeta discreetly shake his head.

They also saw the way Katniss kept eyeing the pile.

"Got damn it, I warned them to just make a run for it. Don't do it. Don't you dare, Katniss."

"I can't watch," Effie finally exclaimed, and she turned around, her heart pounding.

"Effie," said Haymitch.

"I can't, Haymitch. I won't."

When the bong sounded Effie grabbed Haymitch's arm, ignoring the muscle underneath the shirt, and squeezed her eyes shut, even though she wasn't facing the television.

And then a canon sounded, and a second after Haymitch yelled, " _Fuck_!" Effie spun around.

She nearly wept when she realized it wasn't Katniss or Peeta.

"She went for a bag!" exclaimed Haymitch, and he tensed.

Effie shrieked when the knife lodged into Katniss backpack.

"Stupid girl. Fucking stubborn as _shit_." He took a deep, calming breath, as Effie stood there, shaking. He turned to her. "They're fine," he said. "They're fine." He pulled her into a hug, briefly, so briefly that Effie didn't have time to wonder what the hell it meant, because in nineteen years he'd never in his life hugged her, at least not on _purpose_.

At the Reaping he'd been drunk out of his mind.

And then, just like that, he was pushing her away. "Let me see that list of Sponsors."

She nodded her head, still a little shaken, and quickly made her way to her room.

They'd gotten passed the first major hurdle.

Katniss and Peeta had made it passed the Cornucopia.

 **XxXxXx**

"What the _hell_ is Peeta doing with the Careers?" asked Portia without preamble when her and Cinna walked into the Penthouse.

"I didn't tell him to do that," Haymitch said, he and Effie standing as they entered. "In fact it's the exact opposite of what I said. But… I gotta give it to the boy: it's smart."

"It's strategic," corrected Effie, and they all turned to her. She rolled her eyes—she seemed to be doing that a lot lately. "Isn't it obvious?" No one said anything. "He's protecting her."

They all still just stared at her.

"Have you listened to that boy talk? His own mother didn't even believe he would come home. Not only that, Katniss loves her family more than anything. She wants to get back home to them. He's going to try his best to make sure that happens. Mark my words: he'll lead them in the opposite direction of Katniss. He knows her. And he hasn't told the Careers a single thing."

"Well I don't think Katniss knows that," Cinna pointed out.

"I could fill the Arena with things Katniss doesn't know," said Haymitch dryly. Effie glanced at him, prepared to say something clever like, 'Look at the pot calling the kettle black,' but anticipating her, Haymitch said, "So important to your life that you don't say what you're thinking, Princess."

He hadn't even looked at her.

"I was just going to say—"

"I know what you were going to say, and I haven't had enough liquor to deal with it."

"How _rude_." Now he chanced a glance at her, a smirk on his face at her smile. "How was Peeta when you saw him off?" Effie asked Portia.

"Stronger than I expected. It's like he had a plan. Now I guess we know what it was."

"They're gonna kill him," Cinna said.

"Not before they find Katniss," disagreed Effie.

"Katniss is starting to figure it out," Haymitch said, and they all turned to the screen. "She knows she has to make the viewers think she was in on the plan."

They watched Katniss for a few minutes. "That girl wouldn't win any Oscars," commented Effie, and Haymitch snickered.

"She better figure out his plan soon. Her Sponsors depend on it."

 **XxXxXx**

"I'm going to assume," Effie said, pacing the floor, "that you have a plan in mind."

"Loosen your wig, Princess," responded Haymitch, and Effie scowled. "She's closer to water than she thinks."

"She _can't_ think! She's dehydrated. That girl sat there on national television and asked. You've got a list of Sponsors in your back pocket, all crumbled up, who'd give you an _ocean_ for Katniss if you asked. Yet you're—"

"Dear Jesus would you just shut up? Am I the Mentor or not?"

Effie stared at him.

"Okay, don't answer that." She resumed pacing. "Can you just trust me?" She rolled her eyes. "I know it's asking a lot."

God the man was an idiot.

"Fine, Haymitch."

She walked over towards the bar, catching Cinna's eyes, which were twinkling with amusement.

She wanted to flick him off, but then her anger deflated when Cinna patted the seat next to him.

"Relax, Effie," Cinna said with a small smile. "Haymitch wants Katniss to win just as badly as you do."

Effie sat down next to Cinna and he pulled her into a comforting hug. She rested her head on his shoulder.

These actions were not lost on Haymitch.

Later, Effie cursed under her breath. "Okay," sighed Effie. "You were right." She breathed a sigh of relief as she saw Katniss purify the water. "She was closer than she thought."

Haymitch looked at her. "Can you say that again?"

"What?"

"That I was right?"

Effie stood up, straightening her dress as she did so. Ignoring Haymitch she turned to Cinna. "Wake me if anything happens. But if Katniss is going to sleep, then so am I."

"Has your sleeping gotten better?" asked Cinna softly, standing.

Effie sighed. "I haven't had nightmares, if that's what you're asking. But lately I've only been sleeping for a few hours at a time. It's hard to dream during that small window."

"You're going to exhaust yourself."

"Too late."

Cinna placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. "Try and sleep through the night. We don't need our Escort passing out on us from lack of sleep."

"If nothing happens to warrant waking me up, then maybe I can and will. Goodnight, Cinna."

She looked up, expecting to find Haymitch in the same spot, but instead finding him by the bar, a scowl on his face, pouring himself a drink.

"Good call, Haymitch. That's why I'm the Escort, and you're the Mentor. You were right, okay?"

Cinna laughed. "How'd that feel?"

"As bad as Haymitch's sobriety probably feels to him," answered Effie with a grin. She turned back to Haymitch. "Goodnight."

She didn't see him put the full glass down, but she felt his gaze on her back.

Cinna noted both actions.

 **XxXxXx**

In real time she had been able to sleep for about four hours. But it had only felt like a few minutes before she was being shaken awake.

Gasping, clawing at the air, she felt a pair of hands gently grab her face.

"Effie, it's Cinna. It's Cinna. You're safe. Wake up."

Effie opened her eyes, her heart beating fast, and let the scent of husk, leather, and soap bring her back to reality.

She was in bed, at Headquarters, during the Games.

She was safe.

 _She_ was safe.

"Cinna?" gasped out Effie. "What is it?"

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she waved him away, and he backed up. "What's going on?"

"It's the Games."

Effie felt her heart stop.

"What happened?"

"There's been a fire."


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry for the delay! I couldn't log into fanfiction until RIGHT THIS MOMENT! The site was down. To make up for it I will be posting TWO chapters today.**

 **WROTE A THREE SHOT ENTITLED 'THE WEEKEND' SO PLEASE CHECK IT OUT. I think you all will like it. It's not as dark as some of the things I've read, but it's not as light as some of the things I've written. I hope it's a happy medium. PLEASE let me know what you all think!**

 **Also, I'm officially going to write a story called Loosen Your Corset, Princess. It'll be a series of one shots because I have a MILLION different Hayffie scenarios in my head. They literally interrupt my sleep, and since I don't feel like posting a million and one stories, I'll just keep adding to the series as time passes. I WILL BE TAKING SUGGESTIONS FOR ANY STORY LINE YOU ALL WANT TO SEE. I'll get started on it once I finish the Weekend. I've also posted Chapter Two for that as well.**

 **As for now, enjoy Chapters Six and Seven in He's Fire, She's the Ocean.**

 **-thamockingjayandpeeta.**

CHAPTER SIX

Words: 2,263

Effie had fallen asleep in the same clothes she'd worn the day before, as well as her wig, but she didn't care. Her sole concern was Peeta and Katniss. She and Cinna quickly made their way to the living room only to find Portia with her hands covering her face and Haymitch pacing, muttering darkly about the things he wanted to do to Seneca Crane.

"What's going on?" asked Effie, approaching him.

"That _bastard_ started a fire the size of _Hell_ , damn it."

"Katniss and Peeta?"

"Running for their bloody lives, what the fuck else?"

Effie turned to the television, her eyes wide and reflecting the fire.

When a ball of fire injured Katniss Effie nearly felt her knees give out.

"I'll get you a drink," Portia said, and Effie thanked her when she returned with something entirely too strong.

Yet it instantly calmed her nerves.

"I'm gonna kill him," Haymitch said, and Effie nearly caught whiplash as she turned to Haymitch.

"You can't _say_ things like that, Haymitch!"

"Do you hear how loud the TV is?" snapped out Haymitch. "They can't hear me."

"Don't start fighting," Cinna interrupted when Effie started to retort. "You two don't know how to handle stress together all that well yet, I get it. You've barely learned how to work together. But in the name of all that is holy, please stop. Both of you."

Haymitch took a deep breath, rubbing his hands over his face.

"I'm sorry," said Effie. "We're mentally exhausted. You haven't slept in two days."

"And I damn sure can't sleep now," Haymitch sighed.

"You have to go get her medicine. There should be two Sponsors—"

"I know," he said curtly. "I'll back as soon as I can."

"Wait!" called Effie, and Haymitch turned around. "Look at her surroundings: the ground is wet and there are dark patches. She's near a water source."

Haymitch walked back towards Cinna, Portia, and Effie, and sure enough, Katniss found another stream. She soaked her calf, the relief evident on her face.

It was also obvious that she was trying to keep up a brave face. Everybody knew that showing fear, weakness, or pain did not earn Sponsors.

"She might end up winning an Oscar or two after all," commented Haymitch.

When Katniss started to doze off Effie turned to Haymitch. "She's okay. Maybe you should get some rest now." He glanced at the television, doubt written all over his face. "I promise to wake you if anything changes, just like Cinna woke me."

"No. Cinna can wake me." Effie blinked rapidly, trying to keep the hurt out of her face, but he seemed to see right through her. "I don't know that I won't have a nightmare," he told her softly.

Understanding washed over her, and she nodded.

"Where's the rest of you? You shrunk." For the first time she noticed how Haymitch towered over her. She imagined that he had never seen her without her heels, and she had never realized how much taller than her he was. "Nice slippers," he said sarcastically. "You should probably get some more rest, too. You still look dead on your feet. Your age is actually showing."

"I hate you, Haymitch."

He belted out a laugh and touched her wig. "Your wig's crooked. A bit of red is poking through."

Effie gasped and started fixing her wig, and then stared suspiciously at Haymitch. "I'm not a redhead."

He shrugged. "Can't blame a guy for trying."

Then, quick as lightening, he grabbed her face, tilting her head upwards, and ducked, trying to see under wig.

"Oh, for God's sake, _where_ are your manners? It's not _proper_. Go to bed you insufferable drunk."

He let her go. "Not bad. For a carrot top."

"Why I'd never!"

He crackled out a laugh as he headed off to bed.

She refused to meet Cinna and Potia's eyes.

 **XxXxXx**

"Damn! Cinna, go and wake Haymitch," Effie said.

"What? Was is it?" They all turned around as Haymitch entered the room. He looked much better, a few hours worth of sleep evident. His hair was still wet from his shower and his suit was perfect. He still had a five o'clock shadow, as if he hadn't had time to shave, or didn't make time, but for once it didn't bother her.

Effie would have stared if Katniss wasn't about to meet her untimely doom.

"The Careers have found Katniss," Cinna responded.

"Well fuck me," said Haymitch, standing next to them.

They watched in silence as Katniss ran—or limped—away as the Careers started giving chase.

Peeta included.

" _That's_ my girl," Haymitch said softly once Katniss started climbing a tree.

They all held their breath when the Careers took turns shooting at her.

Then Katniss starts making _jokes_.

Effie found herself facing away from the television again.

"I can't keep doing this," she groaned. "If something happens to her—"

"Pipe down, Princess," said Haymitch, never taking his eyes off of the screen.

Effie scowled.

"It's okay, Effie," Cinna said, pulling her into a warm hug. "She's going to be okay." Effie whimpered as the tears formed. "You're still exhausted. When's the last time you've eaten?"

"Who can eat at a time like this?!"

"Why don't you take a seat and I'll make you a plate?"

"Just skip the food and give me a shot. I need something to calm my nerves."

"I think you've been spending too much time with Haymitch," joked Cinna.

Effie laughed, and then stopped abruptly as she remembered the circumstances. She turned around to look that the television.

They watched as the Careers gave up for the moment, at Peeta's suggestion to wait Katniss out, and they all prepare for sleep.

"She's in pain, Haymitch," Effie said softly.

"Do you think I'm blind?"

Knowing it was a rhetorical question she kept her mouth shut.

It took all of her willpower.

And then—

"Rue!" gasped Effie, and Haymitch tensed.

"What is she pointing at?" Portia asked.

At that moment the camera changed angles and they all gasped.

Tracker jack venom.

"Holy fucking shit. Got damn it." Haymitch's curses were well warranted. "I have to go. She needs medicine, and this is the perfect time. When the audience sees what she has planned…."

His mind was going a million miles a minute, and Effie stood there, transfixed.

For the millionth time since she had met Katniss and Peeta, she wondered who the hell this Haymitch was.

He couldn't have been gone more than thirty minutes when he came back.

"Well you certainly work fast," commented Cinna.

"They were practically throwing Sponsorships at her," Haymitch said, taking off his jacket and casually throwing it on the couch. Then he made his way to the bar. "What I'd miss?"

"Katniss has come to the conclusion that she has to wait until dawn to finish cutting down the tree," updated Effie. "She got your medicine, by the way. About fifteen minutes ago." She paused. "She says thank you."

Haymitch didn't respond. Just threw back a shot.

"We should probably sleep while they sleep," Cinna suggested, but funnily enough, none of them went to their rooms. Cinna and Portia headed to the loveseat and Effie walked over to the couch.

Haymitch stayed put.

After a couple of hours of dozing on and off Effie woke up when Haymitch finally sat down next to her.

"What time is it?"

"Early still. I give her another hour before Katniss' instinct kicks in."

Effie yawned. "I supposed I'll go and shower. Get some rest, will you?"

Haymitch just shook his head.

Effie went to her room and showered, allowing the hot water to soothe her stiff joints from sleeping on the couch. She wished she had the luxury of taking a long, hot bath, but her nerves were too shot.

She hated not being in front of that screen.

Is this how the other Escorts felt all these years?

Effie got out of the shower and put on her face. She'd love to make quick work of it, or let her face breathe for a little while, but she couldn't. At any moment she might have to make her way down to get more Sponsors for Haymitch.

Her thoughts wandered to Haymitch.

He was… different.

Things were changing between them. It was nothing major; just little things really, but not little enough for her not to notice.

Shaking her head to rid herself of these silly thoughts, Effie sighed and pinned up her real hair. Then she placed a dark blue wig on, to match her suit, and put on her gold heels.

When she was finished she made her way to the living room, where she found Cinna and Portia still sleep, and Haymitch snoring softly on the couch.

She felt an unnatural fondness for them all.

She made her way to the buffet table. The Avoxes had changed out the food at some point, but Effie wasn't sure when.

She forced herself to eat what she could and then made her way over to the couch. She gently moved Haymitch's feet, sat down, and allowed them to rest on her lap.

"I'm not asleep," Haymitch said.

"Well you're not awake," responded Effie.

Haymitch didn't say anything, nor did he move his feet.

She allowed them to stay.

When Katniss called for Rue Effie tensed. Haymitch, who had his eyes closed, stiffened and opened his eyes.

When Katniss got stung on the knee Haymitch cursed and sat up, rousing Cinna and Portia.

"Oh my God!" exclaimed Cinna when the nest fell onto the Careers.

They all stood as the Careers—Peeta included— started to run.

"What the _hell_ is she doing?" gasped out Effie as Katniss ran back to Glimmer's body.

"She's going for the fucking bows. Figures." Now Haymitch started pacing.

And then Peeta runs towards her.

And ultimately saves her life.

But at what cost?

After a few moments Katniss finally listens and started running in the opposite direction, but it's obvious that the tracker jack venom is starting to take its affect.

And then Cato and Peeta fight.

Effie screamed when Cato cut Peeta's leg, stunned. Haymitch lurched forward like he wanted to go through the television. Cinna cursed. And Portia stood transfixed, her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide, tears streaming down her brown face.

They watched in silence as all the drama unfolded, and Effie choked out a sob as she saw Peeta limp off.

He was okay.

For now.

"They're going to need medicine," Effie said, and she wondered how many times she'd tell Haymitch that.

Haymitch shook his head. "The leaves will heal Katniss if…." He audibly gulped.

"She'll be fine," Portia said. "She only had a few stings."

"It's not the stings. It's the fucking hallucinations. Who knows what the hell she'll see?"

"Oh, Katniss," breathed Cinna when she passed out.

"Fuck me," Haymitch groaned.

And then…

The waiting game began.

Katniss is out for over twenty-four hours, and the four of them hardly moved, afraid that any minutes now the Gamemakers were going to lead the Careers her way.

To help pass the time, the Universe decided to finally allow Haymitch and Effie to have their first major blow up.

"Are you telling me, Haymitch Abernathy, that you are just going to _stand_ there and let Peeta _die_?" Her voice was shaking with anger.

"I'm telling you that it'd be a shame to waist our time with Sponsors," replied Haymitch.

"Got damn it, he's a part of this team! You can't just let him die! Look at him. It's torture."

"There's only gonna be one winner here, damn it!" Haymitch's voice echoed in the Suite, and Effie blanched considerably. "You know that, Effie," he said a little more softly. "There can only be one Victor. I didn't make that rule."

"No," said Effie coldly. "But you're certainly not doing anything to stop it."

Angry tears made their way down her cheeks as she made her way to her room.

 **XxXxXx**

When she finally rejoined them Cinna stood up and made his way to her, hugging her. Portia gave her a smile.

Haymitch didn't acknowledge her presence.

"You haven't missed anything, except Peeta painting himself," Cinna said.

"I know. I've been watching in my room." She walked up to the couch and sat down next to him.

Haymitch didn't move, but he tensed ever so slightly.

"I'm not mad at you, Haymitch," she told him. "I'm mad at these stupid Games, and their stupid rules."

That seemed to deflate all the tension, and he visibly relaxed.

They all got comfortable and waited for Katniss to wake up.

When she finally did, they all breathed a collective sigh of relief.

They watched as she applied more of the ointment Haymitch had gotten her, but she looked visibly lost as to which leaves she should put on her stings.

She'd figure it out. She'd have to. Haymitch had already proven that he wouldn't send her what was in front of her face.

The pain from the stings clearly slowed her down, but she was still able to shoot that rabbit.

The girl was good.

And then Rue came flying out of nowhere.

Literally flying through the trees.

The girl was gorgeous with her thick curls, dark skin, and bright eyes.

She was much too young to be in the Games.

They all watched in an awed silence as Rue started to become allies with Katniss, and then proceeded to take care of her.

The two of them were safe for now.

 **FYI in my mind, Cinna and Portia are SO a thing.**

 **-thamockingjayandpeeta**


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

Words: 2,395

And then it all went to hell.

The plan was brilliant.

Risky, sure, but brilliant.

But nobody was supposed to _die_.

They had literally _just_ cheered when Katniss was able to blow up the Career's stash.

For God's sake the two girls had fallen asleep together the night before.

The calm before the storm.

They shouldn't have split up. Effie understood _why_ they did. And then they had their code song with the Mockingjays—the song that would change everything—and Effie figured everything would be all right.

But no.

There were no happy endings, because the odds were not meant to be in your favor.

When the spear pierced Rue it was like the Penthouse had exploded.

Effie gasped, loudly, the sound reverberating from the walls.

The same feeling Katniss got after blowing up the Cornucopia, the feeling that she was deaf, resonated with all of them.

Effie was screaming, but she couldn't hear herself.

Haymitch threw a glass at the wall.

Portia just started crying.

And Cinna walked to the bar and poured himself a drink.

And then Haymitch was shaking her, but she didn't know why, because blood was pounding in her ear.

"It's okay, Effie. Damn it, it's okay!"

"No it's _not_ ok!" Effie screamed back, struggling for Haymitch to let her go. "None of this is okay! Was it okay when you got to Masilee? No it wasn't!"

She felt him stiffen in her arms, his eyes wide, and for the first time in nineteen years, Haymitch looked like he not only wanted to hit her, but might actually do so.

She didn't even care.

"Get the fuck away from me," he said coldly, and it was coldness that snapped her back to reality.

"Haymitch—"

"Fuck you, Effie." He didn't even raise his voice, but the words pierced her like a knife.

"I'm so sorry."

"And fuck your sorry, too."

Effie bought her hands to her face and took a deep breath.

"I didn't mean it," she told him.

He backed away from her.

"As many horrible things you've said to me in the past nineteen years, surely you can—"

"The only thing I can surely do is hope and pray that there's a special place in Hell for a Capitol bitch like you."

Haymitch might as well have hit her.

"Haymitch, Effie." It was something about the way Cinna called their name that had them turning to the television.

Katniss was in a meadow, collecting flowers.

They watched in silence as Katniss fixed her up, fixing Rue's face and hair.

"What the fuck is she doing?" muttered Haymitch, walking closer to the television, his voice a little panicked.

Before she could think better of it, Effie said aloud, "Rebelling."

Haymitch looked at her so quickly he forgot to look angry at her.

"Look at her," Effie commented. "Look at her face. She's calculating, and she's pissed."

Haymitch watched Katniss for a moment. Then he turned and looked at Cinna, and the two of them shared secret code messages with their eyes.

And then Katniss pressed three fingers to her lips, and belted out the four-note tune.

"Haymitch—" hitched Effie.

"I know." He was already heading towards the couch to grab his slightly wrinkled jacket.

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. But there's going to be hell to pay for this." He looked at her then, as a way to ensure that she knew he hadn't forgiven her. "I should know."

A few hours later, when night starts to fall, as if to seal the deal, and further Effie's point, Katniss bluntly thanked District 11 for their Sponsorship.

 **XxXxXx**

"Eleven is Uprising," Cinna told Haymitch quietly, not daring to talk over the sound of the television. They were in Cinna's room, in the dark of night, whispering furiously.

Haymitch stared at Cinna, not even blinking. "No shit?"

"Swear to God. Plutarch says it's all being kept hush-hush right now, but they had to increase the amount of Peacekeepers. They haven't relented since Rue's death. There have been a few deaths and numerous arrests."

Haymitch walked towards Cinna's bar, pouring them both a drink. Haymitch stared off into the distance, lost in thought.

"What are you thinking?" asked Cinna after a few moments of silence.

"I think it's time I make a few calls to some old friends in 13."

Cinna nodded. "I'll reach out to Commander Paylor." Haymitch nodded and Cinna lifted up his glass. "To Katniss Everdeen: the Girl on Fire, and our future Mockingjay."

Haymitch raised his glass and drank.

He made his way to the door, nearly tripping over a box. "What the hell?"

"Oh. That's a gift for Effie. Shoes. I thought she'd like them." Haymitch frowned at the beautifully decorated box. "Speaking of Effie, you two need to get your shit together."

"She—"

"I'm not taking her side. What she said was wrong. But she was just trying to make a point, and she was distraught while doing so." Cinna stared at Haymitch. "Has there never been something you said that was unforgivable? And I'm pretty positive Effie never threw it back in your face."

"I'll be cordial. That's all I can say."

Cinna shrugged and dropped it. "Have a goodnight, Haymitch."

Haymitch nodded his goodbye and made his way to his own bedroom.

He could hear the sobs coming out of Effie's room as he passed it.

He was surprised at the amount of strength it took him to ignore them.

When he walked into his room and saw the bottle, a bright pink bow wrapped around it, he had to remind himself that she was his Escort, and he was her Mentor.

That's all they would ever be.

 **XxXxXx**

When Effie made her way to the living room around sunrise, she only finds Cinna and Portia. They nod their good mornings and she forces a smile.

Her mouth remained dry as she made her way to the table to pour herself a cup of coffee.

It was there, taped to the coffee pot, that she saw the note, Haymitch's handwriting evident.

 _I think it's time I talked to Seneca. Won't be back until it's done._

 _-H_

 _PS: Thanks for the bottle, Princess_

She felt the release of pressure from her chest as she smiled at the note.

He'd placed it on the coffee pot, where he knew she'd find it first thing in the morning.

He may not like her.

But he'd forgiven her.

 **XxXxXx**

The three of them stared at the television in utter disbelief, their mouths hanging open, shock evident in their faces.

"I was hoping I'd be back in time to gage your reactions," and all three of them turned to stare at Haymitch.

"How in the _world_ did you just pull that off?" Effie asked.

Haymitch shrugged. "I told Seneca to give Panem something to hope for."

He walked to the buffet and grabbed a bowl of soup as they all continued to stare at him. When he turned around he seemed surprised to still have their attention. "What?"

"But surely it won't really be _allowed_ , Haymitch," said Portia.

"Of course not," Effie said before Haymitch could respond. "There can only be on Victor."

Haymitch shrugged again and made his way to the table to start eating. "I'm anxious to see how it'll play out."

Cinna, Portia, and Effie turned their attention back to the television and watched as Katniss called out Peeta's name.

For some unknown reason Katniss decided to wait another day to find the boy, so the next morning, bright and early, the four of them are back in the living room.

They're all sitting, Haymitch next to Effie, Cinna next to Portia, and Haymitch's hand is once again on Effie's knee to keep her from jerking her foot and up and down.

He's running his fingernails up and down her spine, and she can't for the life of her figure out why he did it, or how he knew to do it, but it's incredibly soothing and takes the edge off.

She yelps when Katniss and Peeta finally find each other and Haymitch finally stops touching her and stands.

"Peeta's near death," whispered Effie as Katniss started washing him and they were all able to get a good look at him. Effie looked at Haymitch as if this were all his fault.

Sighing he stood up, putting on his jacket. "Jesus, woman. I'll see what I can get them."

She followed him to the door, reaching out and straightening his bowtie before opening the door and allowing him to leave.

An hour after the kiss, a canister of soup arrives.

"Soup? _Soup_?" If Effie's voice got any higher bats would be able to hear it.

At that moment Haymitch had been walking in, but at her shouts he stopped dead in his tracks. She met his eye, scowling, and he slowly backs up and leaves again.

Effie can't stop her lips from splitting into a smile.

When Haymitch comes back his face his set. He holds up his hand and immediately goes to the bar and pours himself a large drink. He drank half its contents before finally turning to them.

"I damn near just had to sell my soul for what I just got them, so I don't want to hear nothin' but your praises, Trinket."

"What'd you do?" asked Portia.

"You'll see. What have I missed?"

"Not much… they just keep sharing a bunch of kisses," Effie said quietly.

"How well is she pulling it off?"

"I don't know if anyone cares. Everyone's probably transfixed on Peeta."

"He really loves her," said Cinna softly.

"And she is as oblivious as they come," Portia said sympathetically.

"That's truly sad. Peeta is quite the catch," sighed Effie.

"Katniss isn't oblivious," Haymitch said defensively. "It's just… they come from two different worlds. In 12 the Seam people and the Townies don't really mix. It's not that they don't want to. It's just… frowned upon." Effie glanced at Cinna, and he caught her eye. They were thinking the same thing: was Haymitch talking about them?

"I thought Katniss' parents—" started Cinna.

"Katniss' mother was disowned from the Town when she married a man from the Seam. It's not illegal technically, but they were shunned, on both sides." He paused and took another drink. "Katniss and I are a lot alike. We don't have a lot of time for bullshit fairytales, love, and happily ever after's. Not when you spend each day just trying to fucking survive. So give the girl some slack."

Haymitch threw back the rest of his drink and then left the living room.

 **XxXxXx**

"You seemed awfully protective of our girl today," Effie said as Haymitch re-entered the Penthouse. They made their way to Haymitch's bedroom, Effie stopping at the door.

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I was annoyed and took out my frustrations on all of you. The girl is clueless as shit."

Effie laughed. "She cares for him, she just doesn't know it yet. And she damn sure doesn't know how to show it. With everything you said in your little speech I assume there's not much time to show affection on the Seam side of things."

"People marry out of necessity. You want love? You better be from the Town. That's just the way it is."

"That is stupid," Effie said.

He looked at her. "That's rude," he said, and she laughed again.

She blushed when she noticed him watching her.

"You need a haircut, Mr. Abernathy," said Effie to change the subject.

"And you need to dye that one gray hair I see poking out of your wig."

Effie gasped and ran to his mirror, then turned around scowling when she heard him laughing. " _That_ was rude." She straightened her back. "I bid you goodnight."

"Goodnight, Effie."

It was the first time he'd ever said it.

 **XxXxXx**

They slept in shifts to keep their sanity. Haymitch and Effie went to bed at the same time, and then Cinna and Portia would sleep.

Haymitch and Effie slept for a couple of hours, and then woke to relieve Cinna and Portia.

For major events, all four of them willed themselves to stay awake.

"How'd Peeta react to the sleep syrup?" asked Effie.

"Oh, he was royally pissed," Portia said.

"It was a good call, though, Effie," said Cinna with a smile.

"I merely suggested it. Haymitch executed it."

"You know Katniss, Haymitch. How much longer do you think we have before she goes to get the medicine?" asked Portia.

"There's no telling. Maybe another couple of hours. I don't know if she knows how far she is from the Cornucopia, so she'll want to leave well before sunrise. You guys should be fine. If not, we'll come get you."

They were fine, and the four of them watched in a tense silence as Katniss headed to the bag labeled 12.

"Holy shit," Haymitch said, his entire body tense, his eyes focused. "Holy fucking shit."

Effie grabbed his arm when the knife sliced Katniss' forehead, digging her nails into his flesh.

She doesn't realize she's doing it, and he doesn't even feel it.

"Oh my God," breathed Cinna, horror written on his face as they listened to Clove taunt Katniss.

And then—

Thresh, out of nowhere, interrogating Clove about Rue, and then killing her. He turned to Katniss, who quickly explained what happened and what she ultimately did for Rue.

He spared her life.

Effie's legs finally give out but Haymitch's arms, almost instinctively, wrap protectively around her waist, and he holds her up as if she weighs as much as a rag doll.

"My heart can't take this," whispered Effie.

"Either that or your feet got tired of your damned heels," Haymitch said, walking her over to the couch.

"Well they _are_ new." She stuck out her foot, showing off a tiffany blue heel. "A gift from Cinna."

Haymitch rolled his eyes.

He then caught Cinna's eyes and jerked his head for the two of them to meet by the bar. They whispered together for a few moments about what Thresh sparing Katniss' life would do before going their separate ways.

As what was now custom, the four of them waited in silence for whatever was to come next.


	8. Chapter 8

**Posting early because I HAVE THE WEEKEND OFF! SOOOO why not?! LOL. I also have another story (or stories) I'm working on. It's called 'Loosen Your Corset, Princess' and it's a series of one-shots that are Hayffie related. For those of you who keep asking me to write Hayffie, this for you. I'm taking suggestions/prompts, so if there's anything you'd like me to write about, leave it in a Review of Loosen Your Corset. I can't wait to hear from you guys and your creative ideas. I've already posted 4 chapters.**

 **Let me know what you think of this chap. Talk to you all soon,**

 **-thamockingjayandpeeta**

CHAPTER EIGHT

Words: 2,226

The four of them slept on and off while Peeta and Katniss did the same. Her head injury was a cause for great concern, and for an entire day Katniss and Peeta drifted in and out of consciousness.

When the four of them were awake, they took turns whispering about the rule change. Haymitch refused to say how he pulled it off, only explaining that there was no way the Gamemakers would keep their end of the deal.

"It's a television show," Haymitch said, "It's all entertainment. But Panem wouldn't know what to do with two Victors."

He gulped down some liquor, appreciating the burn down his throat.

The mood changed quite considerably when Peeta says, "I wonder what we'd have to do to get Haymitch to send us some bread."

A deathly glare from Effie had Haymitch on his feet.

"Where's the bloody Sponsors list?" he mumbled.

"Back right pocket," replied Effie without even looking at him.

And then the mother of all kisses between Katniss and Peeta distracted them all.

Effie sighed. "Oh my God," she whispered.

Portia walked over to her and the two women leaned on each other.

"He's so stupid," said Portia, her voice thick with tears. "Adorable but stupid."

"He's falling in love with her," Cinna said quietly.

"Look at Katniss' face!" exclaimed Effie.

Cinna's face split into a bright smile. "She just confused the hell out of herself." Effie giggled. "She has no idea what's happening."

"Maybe she's falling for him too," sighed Portia. "And then none of this will be an act all."

Effie gave an unladylike snort. "Doubt it. That girl will fight her feelings tooth and nail." At that moment she spoke up. "Don't you have a Sponsor to visit?"

"I'm on it," murmured Haymitch, and they heard the door close a few moments later.

 **XxXxXx**

"That, Sir, was quite a meal," Effie commented to Haymitch when they saw the meal he had for Katniss and Peeta.

"Well, Peeta told quite a story. I was just reaching the Sponsors when he started talking." He took a sip of brown liquor.

When the anthem came on Effie says, "I wonder how Katniss is going to take the news of Thresh being dead."

"She better take it with a blank face," threatened Haymitch.

She failed.

Miserably.

You could see the hurt written all over her face. She did try her best to hide it at first, but Katniss Everdeen was never one to have a poker face.

And then that mouth.

"It's just…if we didn't win…I wanted Thresh to. Because he let me go. And because of Rue."

Haymitch groaned and put his hands on his face. " _Why_ is that girl so much like me?"

 **XxXxXx**

"The talk is starting to change around the Capitol," Cinna told Haymitch later that night. They were once again in his bedroom, under the cover of night, drinks in their hand.

"Change how?"

"Just little whispers, here and there."

"We need to run with it."

"Any luck reaching out to 13?"

"Plutarch says it's too risky right now. Chaff disagrees but..."

"Plutarch's the boss," Cinan finished. Haymitch nodded. "Well, I got in touch with District 8. Commander Paylor is getting a plan together. Plutarch is at least okay with that."

Haymitch frowned. "I don't think Coin's going to be happy being left in the dark."

"She is not my concern," dismissed Cinna, and Haymitch hid a grin.

The more he got to know Cinna, the more he liked him.

"I'm glad you and Effie made up," Cinna said with a smile, and Haymitch broke eye contact.

"Thanks for the update, Cinna. See you tomorrow."

 **XxXxXx**

Haymitch's hand had permanently found its way to Effie's knee. With it being so close to the end, Effie's nerves were worse than ever, and Haymitch made it quite clear how annoying her foot tapping was when she squeezed her knee, his eyes flashing.

"You're going to be the death of me, woman," he said darkly, and then he relaxed his hand.

She relaxed her foot.

He kept his hand on her knee, and she kept her feet quiet.

He found himself caressing her back again, understanding it kept her calm.

At least as calm as she could be at a time like this.

At this point they were all talking to the television now.

"Peeta can't hunt yet, Katniss!" Effie said.

"That boy is loud as shit," commented Haymitch.

"They fight like an old married couple," Cinna grinned, looking at Haymitch and Effie.

"Shut up, Cinna," replied both Haymitch and Effie at the same time.

Haymitch and Effie both made eye contact, then quickly looked away.

The other wasn't supposed to get that.

The realization that they both _did_ get it wasn't lost on either of them.

And then—

"Jesus fucking _Christ_ , Peeta!" swore Haymitch when Peeta snuck up behind Katniss. Haymitch stood up and started pacing. "I'm gonna kill him. If he survives, I'm gonna fucking kill him myself."

Haymitch didn't sit back down, even as Katniss' bow hit the tree.

Effie's foot started tapping again.

"She doesn't know how to express herself without anger," Portia said with a roll of her eyes.

"Katniss has a point, though," said Cinna. "He scared us all."

"Oh my God!" Effie stood up as Katniss examined the berries, and Haymitch turned to her at the same time.

Their eyes locked, and they saw that they both knew.

" _What_?" asked Cinna.

At that moment a canon fired.

Effie moaned quietly and covered her face.

"It's okay. It's not Katniss and Peeta." Cinna walked over to the couch and sat next to Effie, wrapping her in his arms. Cinna looked at Haymitch, almost to say 'This is _your_ job,' but instead only saying, "What's going on?"

"Those berries are nightlock." They all watched in silence as Foxface got lifted into the air.

They watched in a stunned silence as Katniss and Peeta kept the berries, in hopes that Cato liked them too, none of them knowing how those berries would change everything.

And then there were three.

Katniss then asked the million-dollar question: how long before the Gamemakers forced Cato, Peeta, and Katniss to meet up?

Not long.

"Son of a bitch," said Haymitch with heat at the dried stream.

It was tense.

The most tense it'd ever been.

Sleeping was out.

Eating was out.

They weren't even drinking, not even Haymitch.

Sitting was also out.

The four of them were all standing, side-by-side, eyes glued to the television screen.

And then the sunset, and all of it went to hell.

Cato came flying out the woods and Katniss and Peeta were ready: knife drawn, arrow flying.

"Fucking _shit_ ," cursed Haymitch when Cato was unaffected by Katniss' bow.

Effie grabbed his arm when the mutations came.

Haymitch thought he'd be sick when he recognized— _recognized_ —the eyes.

"That is _disgusting_ ," Effie said, as if she were reading his mind.

And then everything started happening rapidly.

Katniss leaves Peeta, and then backtracks as she remembers his existence.

Peeta tries to fight the mutations _and_ Cato, who now has him in a chokehold.

Cato tells Katniss that if she shoots him, Peeta goes down with him.

And then Peeta, brilliant, perfect Peeta, keeps a cool head and draws an _X_ on Cato's hand.

A target.

Katniss understands, and—

Cato goes down by Peeta's hand.

But he doesn't die.

Hours pass.

Enough time for them to draw a very real conclusion: at some point, Cato was going to die.

It seemed to hit Effie and Haymitch at the same time.

"Haymitch," she whispered, her nails still deep in his flesh.

"One of them is gonna win," he said, and they turned to each other.

He gripped her cheeks, resting his forehead against hers, and just like that, it seemed as if nineteen years of solid dislike was out of the window. Effie felt the tears well and Haymitch closed his eyes, breathing deeply.

He smelled like bourbon, and masculine soap, and… coal. Like hard work, and brilliance, and brains. Like hope, and new beginnings, and _desire_.

She smelled of cherry blossoms. Nothing like the Capitol. Like sweet and spice and everything nice. Like the meadow in summertime in Victor's Village.

"We don't know how long the Gamemakers are going to keep Cato alive," Cinna said after he'd given them their moment. "We should all change and get ready."

They all went their separate ways, knowing they had to look the part by the time the Games ended. They all seemed to be on the same clock, though, and they all made it back in time to see Katniss finally put Cato out of his misery.

They were hardly breathing, any of them, as they waited for the announcement that was sure to come.

Sure enough, they were not disappointed—well, technically they were.

"Greetings to the final contestants of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games. The earlier revision has been revoked. Closer examination of the rule book has disclosed that only one winner may be allowed," he says. "Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor."

Yet still they were too shocked to do anything except watch it all unfold, with the exception of Haymitch, who had a glass in his hand to calm his shaking nerves. They were all silent as they waited for all hell to break loose.

Katniss and Peeta's disbelief.

Their shock.

The realization.

Peeta, slowly standing up, grabbing for his knife.

Katniss pointing her bow at him before he can even toss it into the lake.

The shame written all over her face.

Then the arguments.

Throwing down her weapon, each refusing to kill the other.

Peeta undoing his boot in order to bleed to death.

"You're not leaving me here alone," Katniss tells Peeta, and a feeling of forbearance takes over Effie's mind.

They all saw the calculated look on Katniss' face. Those wheels were turning in her head, but Effie couldn't see how they'd figure their way out of this one.

Haymitch seemed to know what was about to happen before any of them.

Katniss, after all, was just like him.

"Don't you fucking dare," he said to the TV. "In the name of every fucking holy thing in Panem, please don't."

Effie stared at Haymitch, saw the way his eyes darkened, his countenance displaying a frown, his voice hard as steel.

And something else.

Fear.

"Haymitch? What it is?"

Effie's question was answered.

The berries.

"No. Oh my God." Effie turned and looked away, gripping Haymitch, who surprisingly gripped her back.

A gentle piece of comfort, even as he was becoming undone.

Effie felt the tears, salty, before she even knew she was crying.

The counting started and Effie started taking deep, loud, gasping breaths.

Katniss and Peeta would not be the only ones who died tonight.

And then the most glorious sound of them all: The frantic voice of Claudius Templesmith shouting out, "Stop! Stop! Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victors of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark! I give you—the tributes of District Twelve!"

Effie spun around and they all stared, their mouths open.

The hovercraft brought them out of their stupor.

"Holy shit," Effie whispered, and Haymitch stared at her, surprised. "We did it. We got them both out alive!"

Haymitch, in his rarest form yet, grabbed her into a hug, literally lifting her off of her feet and causing her to squeal. She hugged Portia, and then Cinna, and it was Cinna who made her realize the truth, because though he was smiling, the smile didn't reach his eyes.

Their happiness was short lived.

"We have to get to them," Haymitch said urgently, and he couldn't quite hide the panic in his voice.

She nodded. "There will be hell to pay for this."

Haymitch shot her another look, and she kept his gaze.

"Cinna," he said, never taking his eyes off of her. "We need to go. You too, Portia."

Cinna approached Effie, grabbing her as Haymitch made his way to the door, finally breaking eye contact. Cinna spoke hurriedly and quietly. "It's more important than ever that you keep up your façade. They're going to be watching us now, _all_ of us, okay? No more voicing your opinion. No more giving clues. You are one of _them_ , from here on out. But keep your eyes and ears open. Don't say anything to anybody, ever, except me. I'm your only point of contact. No one can know now. Don't say a word unless you're one hundred percent sure no one can hear you. No phone calls, no letters, no traveling."

"Cinna!" called out Haymithch, and Cinna held up his hand.

"You act exactly how you would if you hadn't won today, okay?"

Effie nodded her understanding.

"We have to go. You go where you go."

They were nearly out the door when Effie called after Haymitch. His head reappeared a few moments later. "Sometimes they alter the Victors," she told him.

He gave her one nod and called to Cinna. "Don't let them touch one hair on her head, Cinna."

"You're the boss."

And just like that, they were gone.

Effie fixed her face and made her way to where she was supposed to be.

The true Games were only just beginning.


	9. Chapter 9

**It's Tuesday! Time for an update! Let me know how you all like this chapter.**

 **Also, don't forget to check out Loosen Your Corset, Princess, and to leave story suggestions. I have a Tumblr now (thatmockingjayandpeeta) but I've NO idea how to use it.**

 **Can't wait to hear from you!**

 **-thamockingjayandpeeta**

CHAPTER NINE

Words: 2,224

When Effie finally met up with the rest of the crew, minus Portia, they are all tense, though they tried their hardest not to show it when they finally see Katniss approach them.

The minute the girl makes them out she's running towards them, surprising them all by jumping into Haymitch's arms first.

"Nice job, Sweetheart," he tells her with a smile, and Effie suspected Katniss was too exhausted to see how strained his smile is.

There are tears in Effie eyes as she mumbles about them being pearls—God, would that line _ever_ die?

Katniss also had a warm hug for Cinna.

Cinna whisked Katniss off to get prepped after assuring her that Portia is only with Peeta, who is fine.

Sure, the boy lost a leg, but in the grand scheme of thing, he's alive, so he's fine.

Haymitch and Effie went their separate ways now, a quiet indifference in the air between them, and Effie prayed it was only for show.

Haymitch went to the Victor's Lounge, while Effie went to meet up with the rest of the Escorts.

She was praised and celebrated, and she had to force herself to remember to smile and be bubbly and act naturally, though deep inside all she could think about was Katniss and Peeta.

About half an hour had passed when Effie ran into Portia.

"Oh, thank God!" said the designer, slightly out of breath. "I've been looking everywhere for you. You have to find Haymitch. Cinna says they're still attempting to alter Katniss' appearance."

Effie felt the blood drain from her face, and before Portia could say anything else, Effie was on her way.

She knew where to find him: the Victor's Throne Room, inside the Victor's Lounge.

This is why most Mentors were asked to stay until the Games were over: so that they could welcome the newest Mentor into the Victory Lounge. She'd never been to the room before, but she knew where to find it.

It didn't take long for her to find Haymitch.

He was the one by the bar, next to Chaff, knocking back drinks.

"Haymitch," she whispered, and he turned to her, startled.

"Effie, you can't be here," said Haymitch, immediately grabbing her arm and leading her out. She caught some of the stares of surprise but didn't care. Once outside he turned to her. "Are you crazy?"

"It's Katniss," she said without preamble. "Portia said that Cinna said they were still trying to alter her."

His eyes flashed dangerously and he took a deep breath.

"I'll handle it," he said.

Then he flicked her forehead.

"Stop looking so worried. Eyes bright. Chin up. Smile on."

It was his way of saying that it was fine—whatever _it_ was between them—was okay, for now.

She'd have been thrilled if she weren't so shocked.

"I'm sorry, did you just _flick_ me?"

"No time to argue, Princess. Gotta run."

"Haymitch!" called out Effie. He turned. "Make her girly. Super girly. She's young and in love."

"Big gown, dumbed down makeup," Haymitch said, nodding his head, and she realized that he had already formed this conclusion. "I'll talk to Cinna."

And with that, he was gone.

 **XxXxXx**

She didn't see him again until it was nearly time for them to go on stage. She kept near Cinna, allowing him to fix her wig and touch up her eye shadow.

Haymitch briefly caught her eye and then nodded.

He'd warned Katniss.

So now what?

She didn't have much time to think about it. Her name was called, and the transformation was instant.

Lights, camera, action.

She was on.

She did just like Haymitch said.

Eyes bright. Chin up. Big smiles.

It was, after all, a big, big, big day.

The applause she received made it easy for her to smile and wave to the crowd, even if she did hate them all. She charmed the crowd with kisses and blushes, and then she scooted off to the side as Haymitch's name was called.

The way the crowd reacted to him shocked them all, including Haymitch, but he played it off nicely. Now Effie's smile was genuine. If anyone deserved the recognition, he did. She clapped and cheered along with everyone else.

When it finally ended, Effie's voice was hoarse, but she still had cheers for Portia and Cinna.

They too truly deserved it.

And then they all sat down and re-watched the recap of the Hunger Games.

Haymitch sat next to her, she sat next to Cinna, and Portia sat next to him.

It didn't take long to feel Haymitch's hand gripping her knee, but if it were for him or her, she didn't know.

She imagined this couldn't be easy for him. This was the first time since his own Victory that he had to endure this.

When the recap was over, and the lights brightened, Effie made sure her Capitol smile was in place. Haymitch has removed his hand and is clapping along with everyone else.

Effie was pretty positive that no one else in the arena besides her, Haymitch, Portia, and Cinna, could sense the tension between Katniss and President Snow as he placed the tiara on Katniss' head.

She gripped Cinna's hand—because if caught on camera this wouldn't be perceived as weird, as opposed to if she had taken Haymitch's hand, who she'd have loved to go to for comfort—until President Snow was gone.

Afterwards they headed to the mansion for the Victory Dinner.

Effie had always had trouble eating at this event, and she'd certainly have trouble tonight.

But she had to act natural, so she mingled, and talked, and giggled the entire time.

When they were finally able to head back to the Training Center, she was mentally exhausted.

But she wouldn't be able to sleep. At least, not without nightmares.

A soft touch on her waist, still not intimate, but gentle, kind, friendly.

Haymitch.

"Is there a key to Katniss' room?" he asked, hardly moving his lips.

"I'll get it to you." He nodded and brushed passed her, taking Katniss along with him.

The next morning she was awakened by Cinna. She gasped, fresh out of a nightmare, and he instantly soothes her.

"I'm sorry," she said when she had calmed down. "To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?"

"I won't keep you long. I just don't know how much time we'll have after the Interviews and before we all start heading our separate ways. I wanted to ask you something."

Effie arched an eyebrow. Cool, calm, collected Cinna was nervous.

"By all means," said Effie.

"I was wondering…" he took a deep breath. "I was wondering if you'd do me the honor of letting me be your personal designer."

Effie's mouth dropped. When she composed herself she smiled. "I would be honored, Cinna."

"Really?" Effie nodded. "Good. We'll get you out of those suits—"

"Are you saying my outfits are outdated?"

"Not at all. But you're Effie Trinket, former child star and big-time model, and current Escort to District 12. You should be fashion forward."

"I'd love to."

He gave her a brilliant smile, squeezing her hand.

She waved fondly at him as he made his leave.

The rest of the afternoon was a blur, with getting ready for the Interviews, and then watching them.

Afterwards they all headed back to the Training Center to collect their belongings. They didn't have a lot of time. The train would be leaving back to 12 within the hour.

There was an unsettled silence between them all as they packed.

Effie didn't have any encouraging words to tell them. It'd be a long road ahead of them, and Effie was supposed to be oblivious to all the discomfort, so she couldn't even say anything.

Cinna walked into her room and she arched an eyebrow. He gave her a slight nod, and then walked away.

He had returned Katniss' mockingjay pin.

When the time finally came for them to say their goodbyes to Cinna and Portia Effie didn't really know where to start. She was unsettled, and jittery, and wanted nothing more than to give them all a giant hug and cry until she couldn't cry anymore.

"It's not really goodbye," Effie said to Portia. "We have the Victory Tour coming up in a few months."

Portia nodded, tears streaming down her face. "You don't have to be a stranger," said Portia. "We could do lunch or make hair appointments together. Something."

Effie smiled. "Anytime."

When Cinna was done saying his goodbye to Peeta and Katniss he turned to her with a sad smile.

"I don't even know why we're acting like this. You'll be back soon, and then we can get started on fittings and colors and hairstyles…."

Effie grabbed Cinna's hands and pulled him to her. "You were a constant comfort. I wouldn't have made it through these Games without you."

Cinna placed a lingering kiss on Effie's forehead and then said softly, "Katniss isn't the only girl I'm betting on."

Effie flushed and smiled, and then waved until the two of them were out of sight.

Then she made her way towards the train, faltering a little once she noticed Haymitch watching her suspiciously.

 **XxXxXx**

Later on that night Haymitch came to her room.

"I'm going to assume Katniss has broken the boy's heart," he said.

Effie nodded. "Yes… I think so, especially with your little tip. She looks miserable, and he's been in his room for the past several hours. It's a shame. I thought she was really starting to care for him."

"I think there's another boy, in 12, she might have feelings for. He's not right for her, though…. Mean, surly, but… their fathers were killed in the same mining accident."

"He'll never understand what she goes through, though. The nightmares, the guilt, the fear…."

"No, he won't," agreed Haymitch.

"Peeta will, though. They were in this together. That has to count for something."

"Sometimes it's the things that remind us of the Games that hurts the most." He'd spoken softly, a faraway look in his eyes, and Effie felt her throat tighten.

"Well, at least you have people who understands you now. Maybe you can pull yourself together."

"Doubt it," Haymitch responded dryly.

"Haymitch—"

"Don't Effie. Don't get your hopes up about me, okay? I just want to forget. That's all I ever want to do. It's better that way. Remembering…" he shook his head. "Remembering makes me feel human, and I don't want to feel human."

"But—"

"There is not but, Effie. All I want to do is get home and drown myself in a bottle, because if I don't, the nightmares will come. I haven't watched a full Game since my own. You can't possibly imagine how difficult this was for me. I can't decide if having Victors is better of worse at the moment."

He took a deep breath and looked away from her tears.

"I'm tired, Effie. I'm tired, I'm old, and I suspect I'm dying. Haven't been too good on my liver, have I?"

"Don't say that," she whispered. "Why would you say that?" And now the tears fell.

"I just want to forget. Everything."

She kept her face blank and blinked back the rest of her tears.

Now she understood.

"Okay, Haymitch." She stood there as he turned around and walked towards the door. She nearly missed it, the hesitation, but he willed himself to keep walking.

She had no clue, no idea, that he was doing that to save her life, and to save her heartache.

How simple it'd be, after this Victory, to allow her into his life.

But he was a key leader in a Rebellion, that was sure to take off with flying colors now, and letting her in would only complicate things, and make matters worse if anything happened to him.

And surely it would.

President Snow would not be kind once he figured out Haymitch Abernathy got one up on him again.

"I care about you, Haymitch," she said to his back, and all pride was gone.

He stopped and slowly turned around. "Don't. People who care about me tend to end up dead."

Then he walked into his room and walked over to his bar.

He lost count of how many drinks he had.

 **XxXxXx**

An unfamiliar feeling settled over Effie as she said her goodbyes to Katniss and Peeta after the feast.

Hope was blooming.

Sure, it was going to get darker before it got better, but if they played their cards right, they could make and change history.

They just had to live through the bad.

They'd have to live through Katniss telling Peeta it was all an act, because to the trained eye it looked as if Katniss is confused.

They'd have to get through the hurt and the tears and the nightmares.

They'd have to get through the Victory Tour.

12 Districts in twenty-four days, and then a night at the Capitol.

Should be bloody fun for them all.

They'd have to get through fake smiles and snide remarks and drunken Mentors and frowning Escorts.

Broken hearts.

Wounded spirits.

They'd had to get through all of this for the odds to be in their favor.

Most importantly they had to get through the smoke.

Because fire was catching.

 **HEY! So Hunger Games has ended, and now we'll be going into Catching Fire. Just a quick note: I wanted to find a reason for Haymitch's drinking to get worse. I was thinking long and hard about it and couldn't figure out why he would start drinking more knowing they were faced with rebellion. Wouldn't he have been drinking less? He'd need to be alert, right? So for the sake of my story, Haymitch realized he liked Effie, but understood loving her would be dangerous, so he shies away from the relationship, which ultimately depresses him even more.**

 **Hence the still drunken Mentor.**

 **Some things never change LOL**

 **-thamockingjayandpeeta**


	10. Chapter 10

**Decided to post early. You're welcome! I've written most of this book—Haymitch just found out that Effie is missing and he's pretty much royally pissed. He's about to go and get her—which means Katniss and her star squad are about to take over the Capitol. I've got the mother of all twists planned for this story, so I can't wait for you all to see it. But you've got several chapters to go before that. For now, enjoy 10.**

 **-thamockingjayandpeeta**

CHAPTER TEN

Words: 2,112

"Honestly, Cinna… orange?"

"You're still a Capitol Escort, Effie. You have to look the part," muttered Cinna distractedly.

Effie frowned and rolled her eyes. "Don't remind me."

"You've been busy these past few months," he told her as he measured her.

"Well I've never had Victors before. I had no clue it was so much paperwork and public appearances involved. I used to think I was a socialite but now I know better. I wasn't invited to half as many parties this time last year."

"Yes, and you've been keeping up your appearances perfectly."

"Only because you keep designing beautiful dresses for me," smiled Effie. "I just wish you could make more appearances with me. I've seen the guest list for a lot of these events. You and Portia are oftentimes invited."

"Well unfortunately all your bimbo Capitol friends keep asking me to design dresses for them, so I don't have much time anymore."

"'Bimbo Capitol friends?' Guess you and Haymitch are still corresponding."

Cinna looked at her and smiled. "Wouldn't you like to know."

"Not at all. I could not possibly care less about that man."

"So you're not at all worried about seeing him in a few day's time?"

"I am totally indifferent to Haymitch Abernathy's existence."

"You lie well, Ms. Trinket."

"Didn't you know? I was offered many movie roles in my time. Had I not gotten the Escorting job I'd have been an actress. I had actually just auditioned for a major movie role when I got the call about being an Escort." She shook her head as she realized how differently her life could have been if she had taken that role instead.

"Well you would have won an Academy Award or two these past few months. I know they haven't been easy." He removed the measuring tape from around her waist and stared into her eyes. "You're playing your part well. Just keep it up."

"What else can I do?" asked Effie. "I know how important it is for me to act accordingly."

"It's extremely important."

Effie nodded. "Are the Districts still Rebelling?"

"Definitely," said Cinna.

"But you still won't tell me which ones?"

"You can figure it out yourself, honestly. Just think about what the Capitol doesn't have at the moment."

They were always free to talk in Cinna's studio. For one, he had purposely chosen a place with very little reception, and therefore, the ability to eavesdrop was difficult. If anyone tried to listen in on their conversation, all they would ever really hear is a bunch of static.

In case anyone had ever gotten around that, there was always music playing.

Not to mention Cinna had advanced enough technology to determine whether or not someone was interfering and/or trying to listen in.

Compliments of 13, which Effie still knew nothing about.

He trusted her, but not that much.

He hardly trusted anyone that much.

"Well I certainly enjoy our fittings, Cinna, even if you do have your secrets. And speaking of secrets, you still won't let me see the dress you designed for the Victory Ball?"

"You'll love it, I promise. Have I ever steered you wrong?"

"Have you seen this damned orange wig?"

"It's in season, and nobody from 12 will take your seriously. It's a distraction, a mask, a costume."

"You damn right it is." She kissed both his cheeks. "Give Portia my love. See you on that train."

Effie left Cinna's studio and made her way across town. There was still _so_ much to do, and she was leaving in a few days. She only had today to finish up because tomorrow she was treating herself to an Effie day. She'd be totally pampered.

But she wouldn't be able to enjoy herself if she didn't get to finish her assignments scheduled for today. Her sessions with Cinna always went over their scheduled time.

He was always so full of information, though he was careful with what he would and would not reveal.

But she couldn't complain. He always told her what he felt was important.

Finding out about Seneca had hurt her. Cinna flat out refused to tell her how he was killed, but he did tell her that yes, he was dead.

There were already whispers about there being a new Head Gamekeeper. When they had reached Effie's ears, she joined in on the conversation long enough to not raise suspicions, but then she'd gone home and feared the worst.

She had had to wait a whole week before her next meeting with Cinna, and he hadn't mentioned a thing to her.

He could tell something was bothering her pretty early on, though, so she finally asked him, quietly, fearing his answer:

"Why would Snow need a new Head Gamekeeper?"

Portia had been there that day, and she gave it away before Cinna did.

Cinna. Always cool, calm, and collected.

She hadn't cried when he told her. She just thanked him, and they went on about their day.

But that night she thought about her last conversation with the Gamekeeper.

" _I don't ever need an excuse to eat lunch with a friend."_

Now she would never have that lunch with him.

She cared about Seneca, but… not _that_ way, though he made it obvious he wanted more than what they shared. He was a friend, someone she confided in, but nothing more. They had shared their fair share of dates and kisses, but there had never been a real, genuine, true spark for her.

There had been no passion.

He had asked her out a few times, which she had accepted, and they had gone to a few parties together, but they had never crossed any line.

He had shocked the hell out of her, once, a few days before she was set to leave for the sixtieth Hunger Games.

"Marry me when you get back," he had told her, and she had frozen, stunned.

They'd hardly shared more than a few random kisses over the years.

"I—what?" she had asked.

"Just think about it, Effie, okay?"

And she _had_ thought about it, really. How great of a distraction would it be to have to plan a wedding? How great of a distraction would it be to come home to a husband after every Game?

All her friends encouraged it. They said Seneca was a good man, ambitious.

But the sixtieth Hunger Games was the ten-year Anniversary of Haymitch's Quarter Quell, and the thought of spending the rest of her life with a man whose greatest ambition was to become Head Gamekeeper literally made her sick to her stomach.

She knew she had made the right decision when they had met for dinner to talk about his proposal, shortly after the Games, and all he could talk about was how brilliant this year's Games had been.

And then he asked her what it had been like, spending time with Haymitch Abernathy, during his ten-year Anniversary.

He had pitied her, and seemed to truly relish on that fact that Haymitch was a drunk.

"It's what he gets, defying the Capitol the way he did. It serves him right."

Effie felt her blood run hot.

"It's no wonder his family and girlfriend were killed."

And then her blood ran cold.

She had told Seneca then that they couldn't get married, and he'd been shocked and devastated.

It had put a strain on their friendship for a few years, but then he'd asked her to dance at a party, and all was forgiven.

Though certainly not forgotten.

The way Seneca talked about Haymitch had been, and always would be, unacceptable.

She'd made her decision on where her loyalties would lie the minute she saw Haymitch holding onto Masilee.

She'd never gotten Seneca's admission about Haymitch's family confirmed, though. She definitely couldn't ask anyone in the Capitol. It would rouse too much suspicion. She waited for an opportunity to present itself, and it finally did, when Cinna came into her life.

When she had finally plucked up the courage to ask Cinna, only a few weeks ago, he had been vague.

"It's not my story to tell," he had told her. "All I will say is that Haymitch is very much alone, and he prefers to keep it that way. The people he cares about the most end up getting hurt."

That was the understatement of the year.

" _People who care about me tend to end up dead."_ Lord knows Haymitch's words had haunted her severely over the past three months.

It's like she never got any relief.

The nightmares came full throttle now. She figured it had to do with how often and how much Cinna confided in her. When he found out he started limiting her information, and even two and a half months later he hadn't relented on that.

One thing was true though: being an Escort was an incredible distraction. It took great measures to parade around like a privileged, stuck-up Capitol bitch.

But when she put on her face, pinned up her hair, and put her wig on, she became Effie Trinket, Capitol Extraordinaire.

Thank God for Cinna doing all the work in regards to her outfitting, because taking on that task would have been too much.

More than anything all she wanted to do was sleep away her fear.

However there was still much to be done.

Things never died down from the time she left District 12's feast right to this moment. She was always busy with meetings or parties. Effie had always been popular, even if there were those who thought lowly of her because she was 12's Escort.

Now, though, as a member of a winning team, she was not only invited everywhere, but expected everywhere. She used to walk into a room and wonder if anyone liked her. Now she wondered if she liked them.

They all seemed so damn superficial and unauthentic.

Being around them literally made her sick to her stomach.

She could only handle them in doses.

She couldn't wait to get to District 12 and see Katniss and Peeta.

And Haymitch, she supposed.

One thing positive about all the things she had to do is it kept her from thinking about Haymitch. He was one headache she couldn't afford right now.

And despite what she had told Cinna, she was very much anxious to see him after his parting words that night on the train.

Regardless of what the man said, she would not lie down quietly and just go away. She was not about to let him undo all that had happened this past Games and they go back to the way things were before.

Hell no.

 **XxXxXx**

Surprisingly Effie slept during most of the train ride to 12. Cinna had insisted. "You've got way too many designer bags under your eyes," he said, and had ushered her off to her room.

She wasn't stupid. She knew that Cinna and Portia would be free to be themselves with their prep teams. They could find out information from the prep team that the prep team didn't even know was valuable.

Still, she needed the sleep, and she was pretty sure she was even too exhausted to have any nightmares, so by the time they arrived she was well rested.

The first thing she felt was the brisk cold of District 12. She'd never been here before during the winter months—she never would have had a reason to. She was unprepared for the bite in the air, though she found herself slightly transfixed on the white powdery stuff.

"Your carriage awaits," Cinna said, holding out his arm so that he could help her into the car. Effie, Portia, and Cinna took one car while the prep team rode in another with all the equipment.

It didn't take long for them to reach the gates of Victor's Village. Effie felt the nerves fluttering around in her stomach.

She convinced herself they had absolutely nothing to do with seeing Haymitch.

Things hadn't exactly ended well with them.

She hadn't even really seen him at the feast for District 12, and before long, she found her way back towards the train, heading back towards the Capitol.

She hadn't even gotten a goodbye.

But she supposed that's the way he wanted it.

Well he'd certainly have to get over it soon. They were about to spend the next two weeks together.

It may be their last time. He didn't have to Mentor anymore, now that Katniss and Peeta had won.

But she didn't want to think about that right now.

That was another nightmare, for another night.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

Words: 2,190

She smelled him the minute she entered Katniss' house.

Blood and roses.

Poison.

He'd been here.

Suddenly she had to suppress a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold outside and everything to do with the gripping fear that they were being watched—not just her, and Cinna and his prep team, but Katniss and her mother and sister as well.

Between smiles and helloes and greetings Effie tried to catch Cinna's eye, but she never could.

Nor could she tell if he had smelled President Snow as well.

No one could ever tell with Cinna.

Always cool, calm, and collected.

When Cinna's prep team made their way upstairs to find Katniss—Portia and her prep team were already at Peeta's—Effie finally signaled Cinna.

He got his cue and they excused themselves, claiming they wanted to get a short tour of Victor's Village before the camera crew arrived, which would be any minute.

They met at the kissing gates and still talked in low whispers, as Effie no longer trusted even the sky.

"President's Snow was here," she told him without preamble, and his eyebrows shot up in the air.

He hadn't known.

"When? How do you know?"

"Recently. Their house smells like him: blood and scented roses."

Cinna sucked in a harsh breath. "I'll talk to Haymitch to see if he knows anything. Haymitch, by the way, is approaching us."

She thanked God for the warning, because now she was prepared.

She turned around, casually, and her eyes brightened.

"There you are Haymitch. Perfect timing," she said, grin in place. She stepped back. "You don't look half bad. That shirt needs to be changed because it definitely does not go with that suit. And I'll have Flavius give your hair a trim."

"I don't need no damn trim," were the first words he spoke to her, and she ignored them.

"Honestly Haymitch your hair is much too long." She meant to brush her fingers through it when his stench caught her. "When's the last time you had a shower?" Effie asked.

"Earlier when Katniss threw water on me."

She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. God bless that girl. "Okay well you'll probably be able to smell the alcohol through the cameras, so go home and _really_ shower, Haymitch."

He sighed dramatically and turned back around, heading back home.

Good boy, she thought.

"And don't put that outfit back on. Find another one. And a shirt that matches."

He kept walking.

"Twenty minutes, Haymitch Abernathy, or I'm coming in there after you."

At that he turned, an eyebrow arched, a smirk on his lips.

She turned back to Cinna before Haymitch could see the blush creeping up her cheeks.

Cinna smiled at her. "Very nicely done. Don't worry about Snow right now, okay? The cameras will be coming soon."

She nodded. "Handle it, Cinna."

"Haymitch and I always do."

 **XxXxXx**

Effie made her way to Peeta's. He wouldn't need much encouraging, so she would stop at his place first.

The first thing she noticed was that President Snow's scent was not evident here.

Which confirmed her suspicions: Snow considered Katniss the mastermind behind the whole berries incident, and therefore, she would be the one who suffered and was ultimately held responsible.

What Effie did smell, though, were cookies, and sure enough, the prep team was around a table with many different cookie options: chocolate chip, peanut butter, snickerdoodle, cinnamon, raisin.

It looked and smelled delicious, but manners first.

Peeta had a warm hug for her when he saw her, but she could feel the sadness, the hurt, oozing out of him.

Whether from the Games or Katniss breaking her heart, Effie didn't know, though she suspected it was a mixture of the two.

Even with that, he was still just as charming and handsome as ever. His hair was blonder, his eyes bluer, even if they had permanently lost some of their spark.

The Games would do that to you.

He had gained back the weight he'd lost during the Games, and then some. He was filling out nicely.

Becoming a man.

At least in age.

In mind he'd been a man since his name had been called at the Reaping.

"I am still so proud of you, Peeta Mellark," she said as she zipped up his jacket. "Now go out there, and make everybody else proud, too."

"The Games never end, do they, Effie?" asked Peeta softly, and she made work of his zipper to keep from giving herself away. He must be talking about Katniss and the whole having to pretend to be in love thing, but the question rang true for her life now.

When she looked up at him she had her smile in place. "The Games are over for you. Now you and Katniss get to be Mentors. Whatever that means to you, go ahead and make peace with it. This is the rest of your life."

She patted his cheek and turned around, heading towards the door.

"I'll see you in a few. You're all packed and ready to go, right?"

"Of course," he said with a smile.

"Good. I'm going to make sure Katniss is on schedule. It'll be show time soon."

With that she bundled up and made her way back to Katniss', who from the looks of things had just finished getting ready herself.

The girl's eyes nearly bugged out once she caught a glimpse of Effie's wig.

Cinna, of course, had made the right decision.

The rest of the time was a blur, and before long, Effie clapped her hands to get everyone's attention. It was time.

She noticed the mockingjay pin on Katniss' scarf and held in a smile as she pushed—literally pushed—the girl outside.

Effie caught Portia's eye at the kiss that Katniss and Peeta shared.

How long would the girl be in denial?

Then she thought of Haymitch, showered, dressed, hair slightly trimmed, standing on his porch, a bottle in his hand.

Well hell. The girl could be in denial forever.

He caught her eye and raised his bottle to her, almost as if to say 'Well done,' but she turned away before she could put too much emphasis on it.

She'd put herself out there once.

That ship had sailed.

Afterwards everybody was running around like chickens with their heads cut off as they packed their last items and said their final goodbyes. Since Peeta's family still lived in the bakery as opposed to Victor's Village, he actually made his way into Town. Portia went with him, as well as a driver, to make things go quicker.

They were on a schedule.

When Peeta finally came back, Katniss was saying her last goodbye to her mother and sister, and Haymitch was still nowhere to be found.

Knowing it was going to come to this from the very beginning, Effie made her way to Haymitch's dark, desolate, and desecrated house.

She didn't knock.

She'd been down this road before, for twenty years now, and probably for the past ten or so she had finally stopped knocking.

"Haymitch Abernathy you have one minute to—"

"I'm coming, I'm coming, calm down, woman," he interrupted, and he made his appearance on the stairs, a suitcase in one hand, his other hand gripping the rail tightly.

Probably to keep himself balanced.

She looked around as he made his way to the kitchen, grabbing a half empty bottle.

"Leave that here," she ordered, and he stared at her. "There's plenty of spirits on the train. Think of it as a gift for when you return to this…" she looked around, frowning…. "Place of residence."

"You got a problem with my house, Trinket? Cus I don't remember askin' you to come over."

"How do you live like this, Haymitch?"

"Live?" He laughed humorlessly. "I'm from the Seam. We don't _live_."

"You're not in the Seam anymore," she said, her voice cooling several degrees.

"Fine then. I'm a Victor. We don't exactly _live_ either. We survive. And I find myself quite partial to surviving like this than in an Arena. I'm okay with this. _You're_ the one who doesn't belong here." He took a bitter sip of his drink and she bit her lip from lashing out at him. "And Jesus Christ. What the fuck is up with that bright orange wig? I thought the pink was blinding."

Effie rolled her eyes. "Cinna's suggestion. You are more than welcome to talk to him about it. I look like a pumpkin."

That seemed to throw Haymitch off, and he narrowed his eyes at her.

She turned around and smiled.

Teach him to be a jerk.

"Come along, Haymitch. The Victory Tour awaits."

"You're not the boss of me," he muttered, but he came along.

And the bottle was left on the sink.

 **XxXxXx**

Later that night, much later, when Cinna opened his door to see Haymitch, he sees that Haymitch looks a thousand years older.

Knowing whatever it is his Mentor has to say isn't going to be roses, Cinna turns, allowing Haymitch to come in, and immediately goes to the bar.

Haymitch turned on the television and found something pointless to turn on, volume up.

To anyone looking in, all they would see were two friends sharing a drink and watching television.

The screen was their only source of light.

His lips near his glass, Haymitch said, "President Snow paid a visit to Katniss."

"Ah," Cinna said, and his heart dropped.

Effie had been right.

"You're not surprised," said Haymitch, and Cinna cringed.

"I… suspected," Cinna said carefully, and he saw Haymitch arch an eyebrow.

"What were you and Effie talking about earlier at the entrance to Victor's Village?"

Shit.

Fuck. Haymitch may be a bloody drunk but he was damned brilliant.

Still, Cinna, didn't hesitate, even as his heartbeat sped up.

"She asked me if I could remind Katniss that she's supposed to be in love with Peeta, and to make sure she acts the part," he lied smoothly.

"And that had to be done outside?"

"We didn't want to be overheard. The prep team was running around, and the camera crew was running in and out of the house by that point." It scared him how easily he could lie now.

Haymitch stared at him for several moments. "What the fuck is up with you two anyway?"

Cinna could tell by the scowl on Haymitch's face that he hadn't even meant to ask. Cinna couldn't quite hide his smile. "Trust me, Haymitch, I don't hold a candle to you in her eyes." He grinned fully as Haymitch's face immediately went blank. "I can tell you Portia is the single most important woman in my life," Cinna said truthfully. He took a small sip of his drink. "I can also tell you Katniss and Effie come in at a close second. There are some days I really don't know who I care about more: Katniss, who I grew to love during the Games, or Effie, who I've grown to love outside of them." He paused and leaned forward, staring at Haymitch. "Do you ever find yourself wondering who you care about more?"

"Fuck you, Cinna," Haymitch said, and Cinna laughed. Now Haymitch leaned forward, and Cinna sobered up. "We're in trouble. Snow doesn't believe Katniss and Peeta are in love. He basically threatened to kill everybody important to Katniss if she doesn't convince him."

Cinna threw back the rest of his drink. "So what do we do?"

Haymitch didn't hesitate. "I think you need to start designing a wedding dress. Tell Portia to design a tuxedo."

"Oh my God." Cinna stood up to pour himself another drink. "I hate this."

Haymitch stood up and made his way to the door. Cinna followed him and stopped when Haymitch turned around.

"If I find out you jeopardized this mission, this Rebellion, by telling Effie Trinket anything, I will skin your ass alive, Cinna. And I'll keep you alive just so Plutarch, Paylor, and Coin can have a piece of you too."

Cinna arched an eyebrow. "I like you, Haymitch. You're fiercely protective of people you care about. But you talk a lot of shit for someone who spends most of his time passed out drunk." Haymitch blinked rapidly. "I don't take to threats lightly, but you don't scare me. I respect the hell out of you, because I've heard about your position in this Rebellion from very early on. But if I'm ready at a moment's notice to go head to head with President Snow, do you really think for one second _you_ can put the fear of God in me?" Cinna smiled darkly. "I've been a part of this mission from birth. I was purposely put in the Capitol. My entire life has been about this Rebellion. I wouldn't ever tell anyone who would take all of this down. Goodnight, Haymitch."

And with that, Cinna slammed the door in Haymitch's face and climbed back into bed.

He wrapped his arms around Portia and fell into a dreamless sleep.

 **In my mind, Cinna is SO bad ass. #TeamCinnaTilIDie**


	12. Chapter 12

**I HAD TO POST RIGHT NOW BECAUSE I JUST CAME BACK FROM SEEING LENNY KRAVITZ IN CONCERT AND IT CHANGED MY BLOODY LIFE! He is a god, y'all! AND I got to touch him and tell him I love him, and then he SMILED AT ME. I'm SWOONING yall. He is LIFE. So humble. So kind. So God-filled. He is love personified. So here's an extra chapter, in honor of Cinna AKA Mr. Kravitz.**

CHAPTER 12

Words: 2,342

Early the next morning, before anyone else was up, Cinna made his way to Effie's. He knocked softly and then walked inside.

He instantly knew she had had a nightmare, as she was already up and dressed.

At the sight of him she smiled.

"Perfect timing. I'm ready for you to do my hair."

"No problem. But you know I need music to work. Turn on the radio please."

Effie did as she was told and then sat at her vanity and let Cinna start playing in her hair.

"You were right," Cinna said quietly. "President Snow came to see Katniss."

Effie's legs would have given out if she weren't already sitting down.

"He doesn't believe their love story."

"Of course he doesn't," snapped out Effie. "The man has no heart." She scowled.

"He'll force them—"

"To marry," Effie finished, nodding. "Of course." Cinna seemed surprised. "I'm not as stupid as the orange wig makes me look," she said coolly, and now he smiled.

"Someone is quite cranky. Did you not get your morning cup of coffee?"

Effie sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Don't mention it," he said with a wave of his hand, and then he started pinning her hair up. "Haymitch suspects us."

Effie, forgetting Cinna was doing her hair, snapped her neck around to look at him. " _What_?"

"Relax. He's definitely not ready for you to be on our side, though. He threatened me."

Now Effie stood, her face angry. "He did… _what_?"

"Now before you go telling him off, know I handled myself accordingly. I didn't even take it personally. He's afraid that if you know, and don't turn us in, and he has concrete proof that you're not the Capitol puppet he expects you to be, he'll have no defenses left to hate you."

"Well he's certainly holding on to _that_ tooth and nail," she said angrily, and she sat back down so that Cinna could pin her wig into place.

"Don't hate him, Effie. He's old, miserable, and alone. He hasn't let anybody in for twenty-five years. He's still unsure about how he feels, and sometimes it's easier to go with what you know instead of crawling into the unknown. Be patient."

"I don't even care anymore," sighed Effie as Cinna walked towards the door.

He grinned at her. "Bravo, Ms. Trinket. I almost believed you."

With a wink, he left.

"Good morning, Haymitch," Cinna said as he passed Haymitch's slightly ajar door.

He had noticed it was open as he had made his way to Effie's room.

Haymitch scowled.

A few moments later Effie exited her room, orange wig atop her head, and went to wake their Victors.

Haymitch took a large drink, his brain working. He hadn't heard a single thing they had talked about, but the music playing was suspicious enough.

He needed to get in contact with Plutarch.

He'd be damned if their cover was going to be blown.

 **XxXxXx**

The morning went by pretty uneventfully. Katniss and Peeta were both with their respective prep teams, and Effie and Haymitch stayed out of each other's way unless it was time to eat.

Haymitch was nursing a hangover, and hadn't really been eating.

He probably hated this damn tour more than any of them.

She had just put the finishing touches on her schedule not twenty minutes before lunch, and she told them all how proud of herself she was for that, when the train stopped.

Routine maintenance.

 _Routine maintenance_? Suddenly Effie pictured men in suits adding cameras and microphones onto the train.

If she wasn't paranoid before, she certainly was now.

Effie locked eyes with Cinna, briefly, and realized they were thinking the same thing.

Never one to blow her cover, Effie immediately started fussing about how this would put them behind schedule.

"No one cares, Effie," Katniss snapped out, and Effie stopped talking. In fact, the entire table stopped talking and stared at Katniss. Katniss looked around, her eyes finally resting on Haymitch, who just stared at Katniss. "Well no one does," the girl said moodily, and walked away.

Peeta followed after her a few short moments later.

"She didn't mean it, Effie," Cinna said softly as the tears came.

"I know. I'm not even mad at her. I'm just exhausted." She pressed her hands to her eyes, refusing to let the tears fall. When she removed her hands her eyes were clear. "Let me start on remaking the schedule. Haymitch, the cue cards are on the coffee table. Can you make sure Katniss and Peeta get them?"

"Sure thing, Princess," he said, and he went back to picking at his muffin.

She wanted to comfort him. Say something. Anything. But what?

So with a sad look she made her way back to her room.

 **XxXxXx**

No one had entered her room at any point, so maybe she was just being overly paranoid about secret cameras and listening devices.

Unless they were already in place.

The rest of the train ride went smoothly. When the train started slowing down Effie touched up her makeup and made sure her wig was straight. She needed to go and check up on Haymitch, make sure he was presentable.

She walked in and he was scowling at the mirror.

His hands were shaking as he attempted to tie his tie.

Effie closed the door and walked up to him, passing up a blueprint of a building on his bed.

The television was on, its volume louder than necessary.

She turned him to her and started fixing his tie.

"You're going through withdrawals, which means you haven't seriously touched a bottle of alcohol in a few days. Now I know you've been drinking, but you haven't been stumbling around here like normal, nor are your eyes bloodshot. Spill."

He seemed genuinely dumbfounded that she had caught on to him.

"Do I really look that stupid?"

"Have you seen your orange hair?"

She scowled. She would never forgive Cinna for this.

"What's going on, Haymitch?"

"You seen outside Princess?" Effie finished his tie and looked outside.

She froze.

"What are there so many Peacekeepers for?" muttered Effie aloud.

"Million-dollar question of the day. I needed to make sure I was… aware of my surroundings, hence the lack of drinking."

"Well take a shot to calm your nerves. You look suspicious." She headed towards his door, giving him a once over. "Nice haircut."

"Shut up, Trinket," he growled, but his eyes were twinkling.

Damn it all to hell if he still didn't make her weak in the knees.

 **XxXxXx**

Haymitch might have been worried for nothing. But the minute Peeta went of script there were soft curses from Cinna, Portia, and Haymitch.

Still pretending to be clueless, Effie wondered aloud why on earth he'd go off script.

It wasn't that difficult to ask the question aloud.

Was he crazy?

Yes. Yes he bloody was crazy. "It can in no way replace your losses, but as a token of our thanks we'd like for each of the tributes' families from District Eleven to receive one month of our winnings every year for the duration of our lives."

"Well shit," muttered Portia.

"Can he do that?" asked Cinna.

"No but… he just did."

And then Katniss and Peeta shared a kiss, and before Portia and Effie could share a look, their feed was lost.

"Shit," said Haymitch, and Effie heard the fear in his voice. She casually glanced at the Peacekeepers, who suddenly gripped their guns a little tighter, and Effie felt the dread spread its way throughout her stomach.

And then Katniss started to speak, and none of the words sounded familiar.

She had gone away from the cue cards as well.

Just give the girl Haymitch's last name.

"Fuck it all to _shit_ ," groaned Haymitch.

They all listened intently, hanging on to Katniss' every word.

Halfway through Effie had the mind to go out there and interrupt, and she'd actually walked a few feet towards the door when she felt someone grab her.

It was his speed that shocked her more than anything. Haymitch grabbed her and spun her so quickly she wouldn't have known she'd even been grabbed had it not been for his scent. One minute she was walking towards the door, the next she was in Cinna's arms.

"Get Effie to the train and don't let her out of her sight," Haymitch said, and the fear in his voice had her mouth going dry.

Cinna nodded and they started to leave when two Peacekeepers blocked their way.

"No one can leave," said one of them.

Haymitch walked up to them. "I want these three out of here now."

The same one who spoke stepped closer to Haymitch. "I don't really care what you want. They will stay put."

Haymitch looked ready to fight. "Wanna bet?"

And before any of them knew it the lead Peacekeeper, along with another Peacekeeper, had grabbed Haymitch, one on each side, and a third one had his gun pointed at him.

Cinna and Portia gasped and immediately started to protest and Haymitch looked like he was ready to kill everybody in that room.

It was Effie, though, whose voice rang out above everyone's.

"Are you _insane_?" snapped out Effie angrily. "Let him go! Do you have any idea who this is?" They looked like they couldn't care less. "This is Haymitch Abernathy, winner of the 50th Hunger Games. You _will_ show him respect."

The one with the gun looked at Effie, and then looked at Haymitch, and Effie could tell the minute the Peacekeeper realized that they could get in serious trouble for this. He slowly lowered his gun.

"Haymitch Abernathy?" said the leader. "You mean winner of the 50th Hunger Game, and current drunk?" The disdain in his voice was obvious.

"No," Effie said coldly. "I mean Haymitch Abernathy, former and current Victor of a Quarter Quell. You will let him go or so help me God I will have all your badges. Try me if you want to."

The two of them stared at each other for a moment, and then, at the leader's nod, he and the other Peacekeeper let Haymitch go.

"No one leaves," the leader repeated, and the three Peacekeepers made their way back to the line.

The whole exchange couldn't have taken more than fifteen seconds, but it was an intense fifteen seconds. Cinna, Portia, and Haymitch all stared at Effie.

" _What_?" she retorted out. "You have to know how to deal with those people." She shot a dirty look over her shoulder at them.

"And how do you deal with them?" asked Portia.

"Well you don't insult their egos by telling them said former Victor could kill them in his sleep, because they'd have challenged Haymitch, he'd have proven my point, and at some point someone would find out and we'd all be killed. And then who would protect our Victors?"

Effie took a calming breath, but it was no good.

All hell broke loose the moment she heard the four-note tune.

Then there were a few screams.

And then—

A gunshot. Clear as day.

Effie screamed just as Haymitch grabbed her again. "That was a gunshot," he said unnecessarily, and at the same time Peacekeepers cocked their guns. "Don't move!" yelled out the leader, and the four of them froze.

A few moments later Peeta and Katniss walked in, looking harassed.

The group approached their Victors, Effie reaching them first. "What happened?" asked Effie breathlessly. "We lost the feed just after Katniss' beautiful speech and then Haymitch said he thought he heard a gunfire." And now it was time to lie, and act. "And I said that was ridiculous, but who knows? There are lunatics everywhere!"

 _Like leading all of Panem_ , she finished inside of her head.

"Nothing happened Effie. An old truck backfired," and Peeta Mellark could win a million Oscars.

And then two more shots.

Haymitch pushed Effie towards Cinna and then said, "Both of you, with me," to Katniss and Peeta, and the three of them made their way upstairs.

The Peacekeepers seemed reluctant to intervene.

Effie then remembered the blueprints she saw on Haymitch's bed.

Genius, that man is.

Effie watched them until they were out of sight before she turned to Cinna and Portia.

They talked in hushed whispers for several moments before another Peacekeeper came in.

"You get these people out of here and onto that train immediately," he said, and the leader, the one who thought he was God's gift to earth, nodded as the other Peacekeeper left back outside.

At that precise moment, Haymitch, Katniss, and Peeta come back downstairs, their faces set.

They all made their way to the train silently, Haymitch to the bar, Cinna close behind, and Effie ushering Katniss and Peeta to get ready for their dinner.

When she got to the dining area she found Cinna, Portia, and Haymitch all seated, all with glasses.

There was a glass waiting for her.

"Bless you Cinna," she said, grabbing her wine.

"Actually that was from Haymitch."

She wasn't sure she believed Cinna until she looked at him.

Her eyes shifted to Haymitch. "Well God bless Haymitch."

She refused to blush as she kept his gaze and took a drink.

"So… you've had a lot of experiences with Peacekeepers?" Haymitch's eyes glittered black with amusement.

"I actually dated one once," and Cinna nearly choked. "Needless to say it was brief. Definitely one of the worst decisions of my life."

Haymitch chuckled. "I don't think I've ever seen you so pissed, Effie."

"Well he tried to manhandle you! No one gets to do that except me."

Haymitch arched an eyebrow. "I'd like to see you try, Princess."

She sat down her empty glass. "Please don't tempt me." She said it a little more coldly than she had intended, but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't still angry at Haymitch. "I need a touch up. Dinner is in a few. Haymitch, straighten that tie."

With that she walked away to her room.


	13. Chapter 13

**It's Tuesday! Enjoy your update!**

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Words: 2,525

Cinna caught Effie in the living room adjusting her dress, a frown on her face.

"I just told Katniss to fix her frown," Cinna said, approaching her. "Do I need to remind you to do the same?"

Effie sighed. "I can't wait to get out of here."

"None of us can." He approached her, lowering his voice. "But remember that Katniss nor Peeta know you know anything. Neither does Haymitch for that matter. Act accordingly."

And she did.

The one time her resolve started to fall, and Katniss asked her if something was wrong, she made quick work of talking about how the Peacekeepers had treated her—not at all a lie—and threw in some mindless details for dramatic affect.

She wasn't sure how the hell she made it through dinner, but _finally_ it was over.

She made her way back to her room, undressing and taking off her face, and decided to check her messages before bed.

She hardly ever used her phone while she was traveling. For one, the people she wanted to talk to were on the train with her. Secondly she was too busy to be bothered with her damn phone all the time. Even back home in the Capitol she rarely used it, because the people she wanted to talk to either didn't have a phone or what they were talking about couldn't take place over the phone.

Still, she was an Escort, and she had a boss to check in with. She just needed to make sure she hadn't missed anything.

She had.

She read the message several times to make sure she hadn't misread it, until the tears blurred her eyes, but by then she could remember most of the message. One line in particular stood out: _Your request to not be transferred to another District has been denied._

 **XxXxXx**

"I think you should tell Haymitch," Cinna told her.

Effie shook her head. "No. I mean I will, but… not now. He can't know. Not him or Katniss and Peeta."

"Well, it's your news," said Cinna. Effie sniffed, her eyes welling with tears again, but she didn't think it were possible to cry anymore. "Drink your tea."

Effie took a tentative sip and at that same moment Haymitch walked in. When he saw them he stopped and stared.

Cinna stood up. "It's late, and I don't want to leave Portia alone for too long. Goodnight, Effie." He bent down and kissed her forehead, caressing her shoulder as he walked away. "Goodnight, Haymitch. Don't drink too much."

Haymitch watched Cinna walk away and then turned back to Effie.

He openly gaped.

"What's wrong?" he finally asked. "Nother nightmare?"

Effie gave an ironic smile. "Try life." He just arched an eyebrow and continued to stare. "Is there something on my face or something?" Effie finally asked after several moments of him just staring.

"No. That's just it. For once there's nothing. Never in twenty years—"

At that moment Effie gasped, blushing furiously. "Oh my God! I don't have my face on! Or my wig! Oh my God."

"At least you still got your heels on," smiled Haymitch.

And then she was up, ready to run away, but he grabbed her.

He placed her right in front of him and literally just stared.

For what felt like hours.

"You look like ten times the woman without all that shit caking up your face. You don't need any of that shit on."

Effie opened her mouth to respond but found she had no idea what to say.

"And you're blonde." He seemed truly transfixed. Baby blonde curls hung around Effie's face, framing it sweetly. "And your eyes are really blue." Bold cobalt blue eyes stared up at him. It was like he was seeing her for the first time, and Effie guessed in a way, he was.

"It's the only thing I've never altered," she said in a whisper, and both eyebrows shot into his hairline. She blushed again. "Oh my God. I didn't mean like _that_. All of me is natural." Her eyes fluttered closed. "I think it's time for bed."

This time he let her go.

At least a few steps.

"Have a drink with me."

It was a bad idea. He knew it was. She knew it was. But seeing her like this had made him vulnerable. She'd shared a secret with him, a small piece of her soul, and he couldn't _not_ be affected.

She paused and then turned to look at him. "Okay," she said softly. "Just a glass."

They sat on the couch, him with his brown liquor and her with her white wine.

"Tell me about this Effie," said Haymitch.

"This Effie?" She took a sip of her drink. Keep it platonic. "This Effie is a daughter. And an only child. This Effie still loves fashion, and modeling. This Effie loves to read by the fireplace while sipping hot chocolate. She could get lost in the fairytale worlds on each page of every book she reads."

"No schedules?"

"No. No where to be. No one to impress."

"Does this Effie have a boyfriend?"

Haymitch decided he should stop drinking, yet he took a large gulp to hide the blush in his cheeks at the question he hadn't even known he was going to ask.

Another pretty blush and averted blue eyes.

"This Effie, like the other Effie, gets nightmares, and men can't handle her screams. This Effie doesn't date."

Now it was her turn to take a large drink.

She ended up finishing her glass.

"Well that's no fair," Haymitch said, and finished off his.

He stood up to get another drink and she handed him her glass.

He didn't smile until he was at the bar.

"Your turn," Effie said when he sat back down and handed her glass back to her.

"I feel like you already know me. I'm an open book." Effie snorted and rolled her eyes. "What would you like to know?"

"I don't know. Anything. Start at the beginning."

"The beginning?" He started thinking, and then his countenance darkened. He looked down at his glass, and what he was seeing, Effie didn't know. "I was a son once. And a brother. Years ago." Effie held her breath. His voice lowered considerably, ensuring no one or anything would pick up what he was saying. "President Snow killed them because of how I acted in my Games. Killed my girl, too. Kept me alive just so I could know he did it, and could never do anything about."

Effie didn't make a sound.

When he looked up at her there was turmoil swirling around in those dark gray eyes. "You're not surprised. Who told you? Cinna?"

The fact that Cinna already knew the full story and Haymitch hadn't even known the designer a year somewhat offended Effie, but she couldn't be mad.

"No. Cinna never betrayed you. I found out years ago. Seneca Crane told me after the ten-year anniversary of your Game."

"Seneca," said Haymitch, and took the longest drink yet. "He hates me."

"Hated," Effie said quietly, and she knew she was skating on thin ice here.

He looked at her quickly then, his eyes sharper than ever, and it was amazing how he could go from drunk to Rebel in seconds.

"Yes, I know Seneca is dead. I do, after all, live and work in the Capitol."

That should cover her pretty well.

"Why do you say he hated you?" She was trying to get him back on track.

"He just didn't like me. He didn't hide it, that's for sure." He took another drink.

"Seneca and I had a great falling out because of you. For years, actually."

Haymitch just stared at her, so she took another large gulp before talking. "The 60th Hunger Games had just ended. I had just gotten back. Seneca and I met for lunch and he wanted to know what my favorite part of the Game was. Then he asked me what it was like watching your Games, with it being your ten-year anniversary and all." She took another drink. "Long story short he made a few comments… inappropriate comments about your… drinking habits—" she lifted her glass to his, and he clinked with hers—"And how you deserved what you got with what happened to your family. I lost it. I don't even remember everything I said. I do remember throwing a drink in his face, and then throwing the glass at his head. I made quiet a scene. Then I told him our engagement was off and walked away."

"Your… _what_?"

"Well, I can't exactly call it an engagement. He asked me to marry him before I left for 12 that year—literally I was walking onto the train. I never said yes. He just asked me and told me to think about it. When I got back I met him for lunch to tell him that no, I couldn't marry him. And then he opened his mouth and told me why I was making the right decision. God I wish I remembered what I told him."

"You've always had my back, haven't you?"

"Since that ten-year anniversary, yes Sir."

She finished the rest of her drink and stood up, wobbling as she did so. She made to grab his glass but instead she gasped and felt herself toppling over.

And then Haymitch was there.

Strong arms, gripping her, securely holding her up.

"Okay, Princess. You've had enough."

"Nu-uh," she said, and he burst out laughing at how proper that _wasn't_. "Just one more glass. I don't wanna fall asleep sober. Too many nightmares."

That sobered him up real quick.

He sat her down on the couch. "One more drink, Effie, but that's it. We can't both be alcoholics."

"I'll be 'sponsible again tomorrow."

Haymitch walked over to the bar and poured her a little more wine. He poured another glass for himself.

"Thank you for having my back today, Effie," he said, and she looked at him, surprised.

"They were rude, and power hungry. They never should have touched you." She finished half the contents and red dots appeared on her cheeks. "Thank you for protecting me. I truly believe in my heart you'd have killed them to get us to safety."

 _You_ , he wanted to correct her, but the words wouldn't form.

They shouldn't form.

They couldn't form.

"We make a pretty good team," Haymitch said instead.

Effie felt her heart stop.

She finished the rest of her drink, and when she turned to Haymitch, she was seeing double.

"Haymitch?"

"Sweetheart," he said.

"Can you carry me to bed?"

He chuckled. "Sure thing. Soon as I finish my drink."

"And don't call me Sweetheart." She felt her eyes growing heavy and rested her head on Haymitch's shoulder, unaware of her doing so or of him stiffening at her touch. "I like it better when you call me Princess."

Haymitch didn't even know he was smiling as he relaxed.

Effie was asleep in seconds.

 **XxXxXx**

There was someone far away calling her name.

It wasn't until she started being shaken that she finally opened her eyes.

"Cinna?" asked Effie, blinking the sun out of her eyes.

"Effie, wake up."

"What time is it?" Effie rubbed her eyes.

"It's late. You've overslept."

"I over— _what_?!" Effie sat up with a loud gasp. "Oh my God! Katniss and Peeta—"

"Relax. They're already with their prep teams. When Katniss still hadn't shown up after an hour Octavia went and roused her. When I went to your room and you didn't answer I found you… here."

Effie rubbed her face and then stared suspiciously at Cinna. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Octavia might have found you first."

The realization of what Cinna said hit her full force. " _What_?"

"Relax. I've already talked to Octavia. I'm pretty sure no one but the four of us know."

"The _four_ of us?" As if she had forgotten Haymitch ever even existed she whipped her head sideways to find herself staring into a pair of guarded gray eyes. She turned back to Cinna. " _What_ _ **happened**_ last night?"

At that moment an empty glass caught her eye. She picked it up and frowned, and then her eyes fluttered closed. "Of course."

And then she dropped the glass, allowing it roll around on the floor.

"Wipe that _stupid_ smirk off of your face, Cinna," snapped Effie, and he laughed. "Oh my head. My poor head." She leaned forward and moaned, and then turned an accusing eye to Haymitch. "If I find out that you've poisoned me, I will haunt you until your dying day, Haymitch."

"Don't take that tone with me, Princess. You're the one who wanted to keep drinking."

Effie moaned again. "How do you do this day in and day out? I feel like death."

"You need coffee," suggested Cinna.

"I need a shower. And to put on my face before anyone _else_ sees me like this." She glared at Haymitch and Cinna like all of this was their fault. She made to stand up but nearly fell again. Both Haymitch and Cinna reached out to help her. " _Why_ do I still have on these damned heels?" She sat back down on the couch and removed her shoes, throwing them across the room.

"Someone's an angry drunk," Haymitch joked, but he quickly dropped his smile at the death glare he received from her. When she turned away from him he had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

She stood up again, and stayed up this time. "You tell Octavia that if one word gets around to _anybody_ , ever, heads will roll."

"I've already talked to Octavia," Cinna said.

"Good."

"Haven't I always had your back?"

"A1 since day 1," Effie said with a warm smile. Cinna made to help her but she wrestled out of his grip. "Don't. Just let me walk out of here with as much dignity as I have left."

She took a deep breath and made her way out of the living room.

"If anybody asks, ever," she called without looking back, "tell them Haymitch was drunk and dreamt this."

She smiled as the two men laughed.

Cinna turned to Haymitch.

"You two slept together."

Haymitch rolled his eyes and stood up. "We fell asleep."

"At the same time. In the same spot."

"Still not the same thing."

Cinna shrugged, a smile on his lips. "Wipe that stupid smirk off your face," scowled Haymitch, quoting Effie.

"Your head was resting on top of hers."

"Her hair is soft. Like a pillow."

Cinna snorted. Then he sobered up. "No nightmares?" Haymitch stiffened. His silence was answer enough. "Wonder what that means." Cinna walked towards the exit. "Wear the blue suit today. See you in a bit."

Haymitch wore the black suit, just to prove that Cinna wasn't the boss of him.

Which Cinna then turned into a point in favor of Effie. "You always listen to her. Wonder what that means too." He seemed to be saying that a lot.

Cinna left Haymitch wondering a lot of things.


	14. Chapter 14

**So many people enjoyed the last chapter that I felt compelled to post another one, just for the hell of it LOL. You're welcome :)**

 **-thamockingjayandpeeta**

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Words: 2,168

The rest of the trip was a blur. Katniss and Peeta finally seemed to be on the same page again, though Katniss was greatly affected by the stress of it all. Cinna had confided to both Effie and Haymitch that he had to start tucking in her dresses.

She wasn't sleeping well, either. The prep team chastised her about the dark circles under her eyes. Effie could attest to the many nights Katniss woke up with nightmares.

Even with Peeta spending the night, which was great cause of concern for Effie, and the topic of much debate.

When Effie suggested talking to Katniss one day Portia smiled, her eyes twinkling. "Isn't that awfully hypocritical Effie?"

Effie turned to Cinna as he started to laugh. "What was that, Kitten?" Cinna immediately started choking and Portia gasped, covering her mouth.

"Nothing," said Cinna, no longer smiling.

Effie smiled sweetly. "That's what I thought."

That was the last time her and Haymitch's night was ever mentioned.

Aside from that, though, Katniss and Peeta weren't the only ones feeling the strain of the trip. Though nothing happened, there was much preparation involved for visiting Districts 8, 4, and 3. Cinna spent more time with Haymitch and Portia than Effie, though he told her what he could, and Effie understood.

Or at least she tried to.

She knew she couldn't take it personally.

As the Victory Tour made its way to its last few stops, Haymitch made his way to Effie's room.

"You remember those pills you gave me one year? The ones you said might help me sleep?"

Effie turned to look at him. "Of course."

"I think you should give them to the girl. They might help her, even if they didn't help me."

"I already have. I don't think she likes them very much. I hate them too. They make it harder to wakeup."

"Oh." He was worried about her. Effie felt her heart melt.

"I had a talk with Katniss a few days ago." He arched an eyebrow. "About her… sleeping arrangements."

Haymitch paled. "I refuse to think about it. Going to bed. Goodnight."

And then he was gone.

Effie laughed about his reaction for the rest of the night.

 **XxXxXx**

When they finally arrived at the Capitol Effie made her usual stop to Haymitch's room before exiting the train. She found him standing at his window, staring, completely dressed, and mostly sober.

"God I fucking hate this place," he said quietly as Effie walked up next to him, biting her tongue so hard she drew blood in order to refrain from telling him that she did too.

"Only a day, and then we're back on the train," said Effie instead, and like always, she turns him so that she can fix his tie.

Only it's fixed.

Tied perfectly.

She just stared at it, and then slowly her eyes made their way up to his.

He was smiling at her. "I've always known how to tie my own tie. I've just always liked when you did it."

She thought her heart would give out.

And then he cupped her cheeks and gave her the softest, gentlest, kindest, quietest, and quickest kiss on the lips, over and done so quickly in order to make her wonder if she'd imagined it.

If it weren't for her lips tingling she'd have thought she dreamt it.

"Thank you, for everything, Effie."

And with that, he was gone.

Effie hardly remembered the rest of the day.

 **XxXxXx**

Effie was in her room, at the Training Center, applying her makeup, when Haymitch poked his head in.

"Peeta is proposing to Katniss tonight," Haymitch said quietly. It was the first time that they'd be alone together since their kiss, and her question of if he was thinking about it too was quickly forgotten.

Effie spun around, her eyes wide. "Please don't tell me that was your idea."

"Katniss', actually."

Effie closed her eyes and sighed, muttering, "Same bloody difference." She shook her head. "That poor boy."

"It won't exactly be a walk in the park for Katniss either," Haymitch said dryly.

Effie laughed softly. "I love how you come to her defense. I don't understand how you claim to like the boy more."

"Peeta's likeable. Katniss is a pain in the ass."

"Language, Haymitch." He scowled and she laughed loudly. "I haven't said it in quite some time, you have to admit."

"Yah, yah. Guess I'll go and get ready for the Interview and Ball." Effie nodded and he walked away.

Effie turned back to her mirror and pinned her hair up.

A few minutes later there was a soft knock on her door. Effie waited expectantly for Cinna to walk in, which he did a few seconds later, a bag in his hand.

"Let's do your makeup first," he said, placing the bag down gently on the bed.

He also had another wig.

Thank God.

The orange had overstayed its welcome.

Effie let Cinna add blush to her cheeks, and then stared in awe at the pallet of colors.

She still wouldn't know what color her dress was.

He started with her eyes, and as she kept them closed, she didn't see which color he put on her lids.

"I think I'll take you old school, and give you the smoky eye look."

Effie smiled. "You know me so well. That's always been one of my favorites. Maybe now it'll come back in style."

"You will definitely be a trendsetter after tonight," he assured her.

He purposely turned her away from her mirror when she was finally able to open her eyes again, after he'd applied her false lashes. He added a few diamonds at the end of each eye and stepped back, evaluating her.

"Stunning," he said. He walked behind her and she heard him rummaging around for something. When he came back to face her he had a tube of lipstick in his hand. "We're going to go with nude. Your face is simple tonight, aside from the eyes. I want your dress to be your statement piece."

He put the lipstick on, giving her a few coats, before starting on her hair. He pinned a few loose pieces of her real hair even tighter, and then placed a gold wig atop her head.

It looked like her real hair color.

It was simple, really: just blonde hair in a braided up-do, dark diamonds strategically placed around. He put silver studs in her ears and a simple silver necklace around her neck.

Then he painted her nails—nude again—and stood up.

"I'll leave you to get dressed," he told her, his eyes twinkling.

She waited until the door was closed before looking at herself.

She looked beautiful, but naturally so.

That man never ceased to amaze her.

She finally made her way to her bed to look at her dress. She held her breath, unsure why she was nervous. She knew Cinna. She trusted Cinna. She knew whatever she was about to see was going to be special.

When she unzipped the bag her heart stopped.

"You clever man, Cinna," she said softly, a smile tugging at her lips.

A long, formal dress stared back her. It was beautiful, and unlike anything she had ever worn before. The back was out and there was a long slit on the right. The front was a simple crewneck.

But it was the color that stood out the most. It was perfect.

 **XxXxXx**

Effie knocked softly on Haymitch's door, and then opened it.

"Can you zip me up? My nails are still wet," she said softly.

He looked up and stared, boldly undressing her with his eyes.

She tried not to blush, but failed miserably.

She finally turned sideways so he could zip up her dress and her eyes caught his in his mirror.

He hadn't moved.

When he finally moved he took slow, tentative steps towards her.

He finally made his way to her, softly gripping the zipper located on the side of her dress and zipped it up.

Their eyes were locked on each other in the mirror.

"Thank you," she said. Then she turned around so that her back was to him. "And can you button the back of my dress? I can't seem to do it."

"What back? You're practically naked." He moved her hair to the side, gulping as he did so.

Effie smiled at him in the mirror. "Wouldn't you like that?"

His hands shaking as he buttoned the two buttons that snapped the back of her dress together was her answer.

"You look… normal."

She turned and faced him, a smile on her face. "This, Sir, just so happens to be a Cinna original. There is nothing _normal_ about it."

"You look… different," he corrected.

"I know what you meant, Haymitch," said Effie, still smiling. "I think the real word you're looking for is beautiful. You look quite handsome yourself. Except you're missing your tie."

"Cinna's bringing it. He didn't like the one I selected."

"Very well. Don't be late."

She walked passed him, feeling his gray eyes on her the entire time.

The same gray that matched her dress.

 **XxXxXx**

A few moments after Effie left Cinna knocked on Haymitch's door.

"I have your tie," the designer said.

And he held up a familiar gray silk tie.

Haymitch just stared at it.

"Why does my tie match Effie's dress?"

Cinna grinned. "That's not all it matches. You'll thank me later." He winked at Haymitch as he reached out and took the tie. "Do you need help tying it?"

Haymitch stared at the tie for a few moments. "No," he finally said, and Cinna left.

Sighing he looked up and wrapped the tie around his neck. He had just started to loop the tie when it hit him.

It was the color of his eyes.

He wasn't drunk enough for this shit.

Between the two of them they were going to kill him.

Granted it was his fault. He shouldn't have kissed her.

He hadn't even _meant_ to. One minute he was telling her how much he hated this place, the next minute he was thanking her—for God knows what—and then his lips were on hers.

It had just felt so _natural_ , but was he fucking crazy?

They didn't belong together. She was the Capitol Escort, he was the drunken Mentor. Who ever heard of a Mentor and Escort hooking up? Maybe— _maybe_ —in the Career Districts, where everybody was pretty much Capitol puppets. But definitely not in the lower Districts where it was not only understood but obvious how oppressed they were.

Not to mention the Escorts couldn't wait to get back to their prestigious homes and start partying with their puppet friends.

But Effie was different, damn it. Hadn't she at least proven that over the years?

Maybe that was what he was thanking her for.

With trembling hands he finished tying his tie, giving himself one final look over.

He looked better than he could remember. It'd been years since he'd actually tried to get his act together. He was a functioning alcoholic when he needed to be, but most of the time he drowned his misery in a bottle, and he was okay with that.

He blamed Katniss and Peeta for being… different. For being fighters. For having what it takes to win. Suddenly he couldn't drink as much, because he had to go out and get Sponsors and talk to people and work his magic.

Magic he had forgotten he even had.

Effie had never forgotten, though. In fact, it was like she had always known it existed. She was just waiting for him to come to the conclusion.

He had surprised himself with how well he had pulled this off.

All of it.

Including this stupid Victory Tour.

If he hadn't had been out of his mind with worry for the past two weeks he'd have been passed out drunk in a corner somewhere.

This blasted thing reminded him of his own Victory Tour, which in turn reminded him of his Games.

He hated thinking about his fucking Games.

A knock, and then Effie's head poking through, interrupted his thoughts.

"It's show time," she said. "Let's get tonight over with."

He couldn't have said it any better himself.

 **XxXxXx**

She thought she was going to be sick when Peeta proposed.

She literally had to swallow the bile that rose in her throat at the presence of President Snow.

Haymitch gently clutching her knee, briefly, was her reminder that she needed to calm down and play the part.

It should have been easy, really. Most people were thrilled. The country was so excited for Katniss and Peeta.

But President Snow wouldn't be satisfied.

He was never satisfied.

After the Interview she gathered everyone up to head to President Snow's mansion for the Victory Ball, doing her best to keep her mask into place.

This was going to be a long, long night.


	15. Chapter 15

**It's Tuesday! Enjoy your update!**

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Words: 2,057

Haymitch kept his shit together for the first hour. That's how much time he and Plutarch had decided should pass before they decided to meet up. He needed to be sober for their conversation, no matter how brief it'd be.

They had decided that it would cause too much suspicion to meet somewhere else. Somebody might notice the two of them were missing, so they planned to meet at the banquet table. When it was time, Haymitch made his way over, ever so casually, and started tasting some of the dishes.

They were definitely different from what he had had twenty-five years ago.

"You don't need to worry about Effie Trinket," said a quiet voice, and Haymitch kept eating, his back still to Plutarch. "She is of no concern whatsoever."

Plutarch stood next to him, and the two men acted as if they had seen each other for the first time. They shook hands and smiled, Haymitch taking care to make sure he looked strained just in case anyone was watching.

"Are you sure?" asked Haymitch.

"Positive. She's harmless. And Cinna's smarter than that. You know that. Don't go getting cold feet on me this late in the game." Haymitch took another bite, shaking his head. "Don't worry about it, okay? Now I have to go and mingle. I still have yet to meet Katniss and Peeta." Plutarch started to leave. "And shouldn't you be somewhere getting drunk?" he asked pointedly.

"Trust me, I can't get to a bar fast enough."

 **XxXxXx**

As Haymitch made his way to a bar Cinna approached Plutarch.

"Head Gamekeeper," said Cinna, bowing slightly.

"Cinna! What an honor. I can't wait to see what you have up your sleeve for this year's Tributes from 12!"

"I'm working on it as we speak, Sir."

"Yes, I was quite intrigued with your work." Anyone listening in would think they were just two strangers being cordial.

"I'd like to introduce you to Portia. She's been dying to meet you all night."

"Of course. How do you do, Miss? Care to dance?"

"I'd be honored," Portia said, and the two of them made their way to the dance floor.

"Tell that boyfriend of yours that Effie is in the clear. I convinced Haymitch that she was nothing to worry about."

"So we were right then," Portia said, barely moving her smiling lips.

"What, that Haymitch would come to me, concerned? Of course he would. Aside from myself, Chaff, Paylor, and Coin, I don't know anybody who's worked harder for this moment. He's not about to let it go to waste. The man has trust issues. I'm just glad Cinna came to me first."

Portia stopped dancing as the music changed. "You're an excellent dancer, Head Gamekeeper. Is it safe to assume you'd like to meet Katniss and Peeta now?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

 **XxXxXx**

Haymitch watched as Plutarch and Portia approached Katniss, then his eyes flickered back to the real person he was watching.

He was transfixed for several moments, utterly content at sipping his drink at the bar and watching her.

"You should ask her to dance," said a voice, and Haymitch nearly choked.

"What? Who?"

Peeta grinned skeptically at him. "The one you've been staring at all night."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, boy." Now Peeta arched an eyebrow. "Drop it, Haymitch. This is _me_ you're talking to."

Haymitch threw back the rest of his drink and turned around to order another one, hoping his Victor would get the point.

"I doubt she'd say no," Peeta said, and with a pat on the back, he was gone, probably off to meet Katniss.

Haymitch took a long sip of his drink, thought _fuck it_ , and finished the rest of it.

And then he made his way over to Effie.

Who, of course, was dancing with Cinna.

It'd been years since he'd danced, nearly twenty-five, to be exact, and he'd forgotten how smooth he was. One minute Cinna was twirling Effie around, the next minute she was in his arms.

She blinked her surprise and then smiled warmly at him.

"Well this is a first. An hour in and you're still standing," she said.

"The night's still young, Princess."

She laughed, and he thought it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard.

Fuck him, he was going soft.

He stared at her, and she stared back, and he wondered if she was thinking about their kiss, like he was.

"You dance well… for a drunk." He'd have been offended if it weren't for her twinkling blue eyes.

"Yah, well, this ain't exactly my first rodeo now is it?"

"I do believe you were a Western, country man in your former life."

"I reckon you're right," he agreed. She smiled at him, and he wondered how he never noticed the way her entire face lit up when she did.

Maybe because he'd never really given her a reason to smile at him before.

"You look beautiful tonight, Effie," he told her truthfully, and a sadness he couldn't quite describe made its way through its heart and into his bloodstream. "The dress—"

"Is my favorite color," admitted Effie, and he nearly stopped dancing then, but he caught himself and instead just stared at her.

The music slowed down at that moment, and a blush crept up her cheeks. She stiffened slightly in his arms, as if she were unsure what he wanted to do.

So he pulled her towards him to make it obvious.

She relaxed and then sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck, giving him a glimpse of a soft cherry blossom scent.

His thumbs brushed her lower back and he suppressed a shiver.

She had the softest skin, and he wondered if someone like him should be touching someone like her.

 _Hell fucking no_ , he said to himself.

He mentally kicked himself for kissing her.

Not that he didn't enjoy it, but damn it to shit if it didn't complicate things.

She was an Escort. And he was her fucking Mentor for fuck's sake.

But then there were moments when she talked as if she were one of them, as if she hated this place as much as he did. It was the way she seemed so intelligent around him, Cinna, and Portia, and unbearably superficial around Katniss and Peeta.

It all seemed so damn strategic.

And when he was holding her like this, they didn't seem all that different.

Haymitch caught Cinna's eye as he danced with Portia, and Haymitch scowled when he caught the smirk on the designer's face.

The next time they went around Portia had her face buried in Cinna's neck, and Cinna couldn't quite hide the sadness in his eyes.

There was another reason this was stupid. If things were going to go the way he thought they were going, there was no point in trying to get involved.

Not that he was trying to get involved.

"May I interrupt?" asked a familiar voice, and Haymitch nearly jumped. He hadn't even heard anyone walk up to them.

"Of course, Head Gamekeeper," Effie said. "Mr. Heavensbee. Your reputation supersedes you." They shook hands.

"As does yours." He gave her a smile and kissed her hand. "Haymitch. It's been a while." Plutarch nodded and Haymitch arched an eyebrow. "Now I know it'll be difficult, because if Effie Trinket were my Escort, I'd never let her out of my sight." He wiggled his eyebrows and Effie giggled. "But can I steal your former Escort for a moment?"

Haymitch was about to give Effie away when what Plutarch said sunk in. "Former?" asked Haymitch.

"What, didn't she tell you? She's been promoted! To District 8."

Everything stopped. The music. The dancing.

His heart.

"What?" And no one could mistake the fury in his voice.

"Haymitch, I was going to tell you," Effie said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "I was. I—"

"Well of course you were going to tell him. It's great news. It's sad to see a team broken up though. But I guess it's time for a new team. Out with the old, in with the new. Katniss and Peeta will make great Mentors. They've learned from the best."

Now it was Effie's turn to blink. She stared at Haymitch, who suddenly wouldn't meet her eye. "I beg… your pardon?"

"What, is there some sort of miscommunication between you two? Haymitch, Effie's been promoted. Effie, Haymitch is no longer the Mentor for District 12."

It was like Plutarch wasn't even there. The two of them stared at each other, betrayal evident in both of their eyes.

How the fuck could he have been so stupid? Effie Trinket, like him?

Hell fucking no.

"Enjoy your dance with her, Plutarch," Haymitch said coldly, though his eyes were on fire.

Then Haymitch turned and walked away.

 **XxXxXx**

After Effie danced with Plutarch she made her way around to other familiar faces, dancing with a few, laughing with others.

She made sure to stay away from Haymitch. She wasn't sure how she'd act if she saw him.

By the time she found Katniss and Peeta to make their rounds for their final goodbyes, she had calmed down considerably.

Until Haymitch was brought to her, drunk out of his mind.

"There you are," she said, trying to keep her voice even. She waved away the men who had him and jerked her head at Cinna, who took her cue and took Haymitch along with him.

They arrived to the train station on time and the train pulled out of the station right at one.

"Take him to his room," Effie said of Haymitch, her voice dismissive.

Cinna, Portia, Effie, Katniss and Peeta all sat around the table drinking tea, and she could tell Cinna had spiked hers with something. She looked through her schedule and reminded them about the Harvest Festival in 12, and that after tea they should all go to bed.

After ushering them off to bed Effie sighed audibly.

She shook her head at Cinna, who stared at her questioningly.

Not tonight.

She couldn't tonight.

She made her way to her own room, still seething with anger. Now that no one was around she was free to express herself. She paced around her room a few times, cursing Haymitch and his double standards. The _nerve_ of that man to get angry with _her_ when _he_ was leaving the whole time too!

Damn him! Those kids _needed_ him.

Way more than they needed her.

Effie sat down angrily and started taking off her wig. Her hands were actually shaking. She took a few calming breaths that hardly helped. She unpinned her curls and let them spring loose.

Then she went through the process of taking off her makeup. Normally it calmed her. She hated the weight of the makeup and how she looked and what it represented.

This makeup is what got her the damned promotion in the first place.

It was the way an Escort, a prominent member of the Capitol, was supposed to look.

She wasn't going to cry. She wouldn't cry. It didn't warrant her tears.

So what if she thought things had changed for them. Or if they hadn't fully changed, they were in the process of changing.

And all of that, ruined in seconds, because Plutarch wanted her to know that their entire team was being watched, and she needed to make sure that she was playing her part accordingly.

"You can't afford to slip, Ms. Trinket," he had told her, and she nodded, mostly distracted.

He was telling her things she already knew, and that she was already doing.

Finally deciding to go the alcoholic route—she wouldn't say the Haymitch route, as she didn't want to _think_ about him tonight—she walked over to her bar and took a couple of shots to calm her nerves.

And to stop her from bursting into Haymitch's room and thrashing him over the head with a bottle.

Realizing how irrational she sounded she willed herself to calm down. She changed into her nightgown, trying to convince herself that she was overreacting.

But she was just so _hurt_. The look in his eyes, as if she had betrayed him!

She finally turned off her lights and slipped into bed, refusing to think anymore about it.


	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Words: 2,153

A persistent knocking woke Effie up out of her sleep.

She groaned as she realized there was only one person in all of Panem that it could be.

She willed him to go away, but when the knocking continued, she finally climbed out of bed, walked to the door, and swung it open with a scowl.

"Are you planning to wake the _entire_ train?" she snapped out.

"Well your door was locked," said Haymitch as his excuse.

"That's because I didn't want to be bothered," Effie said coldly.

"Well that's too fucking bad ain't it?" He pushed her aside and walked in, slamming the door behind him, keeping the lights off. She could still smell the alcohol on him. "I've thought long and hard about it—"

"I hope you hurt yourself," she muttered.

"And I've come to the conclusion you owe me an apology," continued Haymitch as if she had never opened her mouth.

Effie blinked at him. "You think _I_ owe _you_ an apology?" Effie scoffed. "You must still be drunk."

"You should have told me."

"I wanted to! Cinna said I should—"

"Cinna knew?" Effie kept quiet as she recognized the accusation in his voice. "Who else?"

"No one. I swear I was going to tell you. I just didn't know how. We were finally… I mean we were… I don't know. But it seemed like we were finally becoming friends," she finished quietly. She thanked God it was too dark to see her blush.

"Yah, well friends don't have secrets." How childish that sounded was overlooked with how cold the statement was said.

"You didn't tell me _your_ news either."

"That's different."

"It always is when it comes to you, Haymitch."

"It is different. I was fired. You were promoted."

Effie paused, stunned, her mind already calculating.

They were trying to split them up.

"Fired?" she finally whispered into the night.

"I got a letter in the mail right before the Victory Tour thanking me for my services."

Effie bit her lip as she realized she had done the same thing to Haymitch that he had done to her: assumed she knew everything. She tried to justify it in her mind. It wasn't as if it were all that far fetched. He hated Mentoring.

Just… as she always made it clear that she couldn't wait to be promoted.

But times had changed, damn it, and he hadn't seen that.

He hadn't seen that _she_ had changed, even more so than the times.

"I didn't ask for my promotion," she finally told him. "My request to not be transferred was denied."

Now Haymitch was silent. "You… You didn't want to leave?"

"I _don't_ want to leave."

"Effie—"

"Don't," Effie said, holding up her hand. "It doesn't even matter anymore."

"What's your problem?" asked Haymitch harshly at her cold tone.

"Nothing."

"It's not nothing. Clearly we don't have too much time left together, so say what you have to say."

"Fine," hissed Effie. "I don't get how after twenty years you still don't get me. How twenty years later you can still make the worst assumptions about me. Yet Cinna, Cinna who I'll have known for only a year in a few months, knows me better than you ever will. You just don't get me, and you never bothered to try."

"I'm not _supposed_ to get you," he snapped out. "We come from different worlds, damn it. Of course Cinna gets you. He's the same got damn Capitol puppet you are."

He regretted the words the minute they were out of his mouth, not only because he knew they weren't true, but also because he knew they had hurt her.

"I didn't mean that, Effie," said Haymitch almost immediately afterwards.

"Go to hell, Haymitch," Effie said, and there was something much worse in her voice other than ice: defeat.

"Effie—"

She held up her hand and walked towards her door, opening it.

The hallway light illuminated Haymitch's internal battle to argue or just go.

He decided to leave.

"I'll fix this," he vowed.

"How?" He was pretty sure she hadn't meant to ask him that question and it had just sort of slipped out.

"I don't know," responded Haymitch, though the wheels were already turning in his head. "But I'll figure something out."

"Whatever, Haymitch."

He actually cringed when the door slammed at his back.

He deserved it.

As he went back to his room and grabbed another drink, Haymitch realized he had lied to Effie again.

He knew exactly what he was going to do.

He'd do what he did best: make some calls on his secret burner phone and further defy the Capitol.

 **XxXxXx**

Plutarch Heavensbee walked into the plush, white office, thanking the woman who showed him in.

The man sitting behind the desk was on the phone, but hung up rather quickly and stood.

"Thank you so much for meeting with me on such short notice, Mr. President," Plutarch said, holding out his hand.

"Of course, Heavensbee." The men shook hands. "May I offer you anything to drink?"

"No thank you," Plutarch said.

"Very well then. Please sit." Plutarch did as he was told, sitting across from President Snow. "To what do I owe the pleasure? I figure it's important since you're up so early after your late night at the Victory Ball. I take it you had a good time?"

"It was a great time. One of your better parties of the year, that's for sure."

"Yes, everyone seems to enjoy it. It's one of my favorite things to host, even if I am often too busy to attend."

"Well the Victory Ball is usually for the people, Mr. President. Panem knows how busy you are keeping our country up to par. They can't honestly expect you to be at every single party. Though I have to say, I was quite surprised to see you at the Interviews."

"Well I had to congratulate the happy couple, didn't I?"

"That was kind of you, Sir, and suggesting that the wedding be right in the Capitol? Brilliant."

"I thought it'd annoy the girl the most," said Snow with a smile.

Plutarch smiled back. "I don't want to take up much of your time. I know you're a busy man."

"Not as busy as you're about to be now that the Victory Tour is over. Now the real work for the Games is about to begin."

"Yes indeed," nodded Plutarch. "But I'm actually here on another matter." Coriolanus Snow arched a perfectly white eyebrow. "I have a request of sorts. You know Dalia Fields is a friend of mine. She's a lovely woman and has never said a word against you. Not to mention she serves her position well. But she truly doesn't want to retire early. I think she had real hope for District 8 this year."

"She couldn't possibly think that. It's a Quarter Quell."

"Let's just say she thinks the odds are in her favor this year." Snow rolled his eyes dramatically and Plutarch held in a smile. "Now she doesn't know I'm here on her behalf. I didn't want to get her hopes up. But… I thought I'd ask. Unofficially of course, and with the utmost respect."

"Dalia _is_ a good worker," Snow commented.

"I think she's afraid that with being asked to retire early, you think that she might have something to do with what's going on in 8."

Snow shook his head. "Not at all. Quite the contrary, actually. If anything we need more Escorts like her." Snow fingered his beard. "Effie Trinket did ask to not be promoted. But I don't trust anyone from District 12 at the moment."

Plutarch laughed good-naturedly. "And you suspect Effie Trinket of all people? No disrespect, Mr. President, but she's the last one you need to be worried about. She's harmless." And knowing how to get to President Snow, Plutarch added in, "Not to mention she drives Haymitch crazy."

"I certainly do like seeing Haymitch suffer," the president said darkly, and his disdain for Haymitch Abernathy was paramount in that moment. "I'll have Emile Dedalus send both Dalia and Effie emails updating them. Effie can stay in 12." He paused slightly. "For now. And I'll tell Redding Baxwoll to reinstate Haymitch as Mentor as well. The more I think about it the more I want him under my watchful eye. I don't know what he's doing in 12 and he, unfortunately, is smart enough to slip out of my grasp." Plutarch kept quiet, making sure his face betrayed nothing. This was better than he had hoped for. "As far as Dalia… those who serve this country accordingly should be rewarded as such."

"And for those who don't?" asked Plutarch.

Snow smiled coldly, his eyes glistening with rage. "Pretty soon you'll be able to ask Katniss Everdeen."

Plutarch smiled, standing, and held out his hand. "Thanks for meeting with me, Mr. President."

"Anytime, Heavensbee."

 **XxXxXx**

"Eight is going ballistic," Cinna said carefully and quietly.

Haymitch stared at Cinna. "How do you know?"

"Your mayor has it on. Breaking news."

Holy shit.

"How bad is it?"

"Bad," Cinna said. "Rioting. Shooting. Fires. Shit is getting real."

"Well now that I'm back home I'll be able to get in touch with more contacts. We'll be in touch."

"Of course."

Cinna left him alone then, and Haymitch noticed the first thing he did was make his way to Effie.

Haymitch watched as Cinna and Effie whispered furiously in a secluded corner.

He still didn't like it. Not one bit. Plutarch _said_ Haymitch didn't have to worry about Effie, but clearly there was something going on.

And then it hit him.

Son of a bitch.

He'd have figured it out sooner if Plutarch telling him that Effie had been promoted hadn't distracted him.

In retrospect it had probably all been planned out. Plutarch had told him on purpose as a means to distract him.

Because Cinna had probably gotten to him first.

Fuck it all to hell.

If they wanted to risk everything for her, so be it.

"Why are you scowling?" asked Portia.

"I'm not. This is the permanent look on my face," Haymitch replied.

Portia smiled and handed him a drink, which he accepted. "I know you have your… issues with Effie," Portia said. "But Cinna trusts her. And Cinna's a good judge of character. So don't worry. He'd never tell her anything to jeopardize the missions at hand. He's worked too hard. All of us have."

"You sure about that?"

"I am. I know Cinna." She stared at him. "And so do you."

He threw back the rest of his drink, silently admitting that she was right. He _did_ trust Cinna.

He needed to remember that, though it was difficult. There were not a lot of people he trusted.

"We'll be leaving soon. Something tells me this won't be the last time I see you. I'd give you a hug but I think it'd cause too much attention. So instead, I'll bid you adieu." She gave him a small smile and took a sip of her drink. "Take care of yourself, Haymitch."

And with that, she was gone, heading towards Cinna.

Haymitch watched as Cinna's eyes brightened at the sight of Portia, and he felt a bout of jealousy, way down deep in his bones, at how easy it seemed for everybody else to love.

Sometimes it felt like he and Katniss were the only ones in the world who understood each other.

Portia whispered something to Cinna and the two men locked eyes with each other, Cinna giving him a slight nod in order to say goodbye.

Haymitch watched as Effie said her goodbyes to Peeta and Katniss, slightly fussing over them with love and affection written all over her face.

And with tears in her eyes, darkening their hue.

She hugged them both once.

She played with Katniss' perfect hair.

Straightened Peeta's wrinkle-free jacket.

Stalling.

Then she hugged them again, this time together.

And without so much as a backwards glance, Effie, Portia, and Cinna left.

She hadn't even looked for him.

He couldn't say he was surprised. Effie had hardly talked to him at all today. She was still pissed at him, and rightfully so.

Haymitch wouldn't admit that he felt some type of way about her not coming to say goodbye to him, even if she were angry.

They might not ever see each other again, even if she does get to stay as 12's Escort.

"Cheer up, Haymitch," said Peeta, a small grin on his face. "She'll be back in a few months for our engagement shoot." Even Peeta couldn't hide his disgust for it all.

Fucking shit.

Would this nightmare ever end?

When he got his letter a few days later, saying he'd been reinstated as Mentor, he had his answer.

No. This shit would _not_ ever end.


	17. Chapter 17

It's a "holiday" (Christopher Columbus did NOT discover America folks) but I'm off nonetheless. So I'm posting early in honor of a day off. ENJOY!

Oh, and the Walking Dead thoroughly changed my life last night.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Words: 2,131

"You didn't say goodbye to Haymitch," commented Cinna on the train.

Effie rolled her eyes. "I'll see him in a few months for Katniss and Peeta's engagement."

"I talked to Plutarch at the Victory Ball. He said having Haymitch retire as Mentor could be good. There's different work he can do."

Effie sighed, her shoulders falling as what Cinna said sunk in.

"Well he didn't exactly say goodbye to me, either," Effie said defensively.

"You two are ridiculous," said Cinna with a smile and a shake of his head.

 **XxXxXx**

When Effie got home the first thing she did was take off her face and wig, take a long, hot bath and sip on a large, sweet glass of wine.

More than anything she just wanted to wash away the past two weeks.

Mainly Haymitch.

She had to get him out of her system. They were over and done.

And then, after an hour of soaking, she got dressed, pinned her hair out of her bare face, and took off her fake nails.

When she looked in the mirror, she was pleased to see the _real_ Effie Trinket.

She thought about turning on the television, but all that would be playing were clips of the Victory Tour, and she couldn't stomach that right now. Still, she turned it on, hoping something would be on that would catch her eye.

Midway through flipping through the channels she caught a special on District 13. She rolled her eyes, shaking her head, and turned it. They'd been playing that same, stupid clip for God knows how long, with that same stupid bird in the upper right hand corner.

A mockingjay.

Effie gasped aloud, and then flipped back a couple of times, her heart hammering.

She had to wait awhile for it to play again, but sure enough, it was the same bird, every single time. She probably had known it before, subconsciously, but now it was staring her in the face.

Old coverage with new footage.

What in the hell could that mean?

She didn't know, but she knew someone who would.

She damned sure planned to ask Cinna next time she saw him.

 **XxXxXx**

Later that night Effie logged into her email for the first time since the Victory Tour. She knew she probably had a zillion emails to check, and she had no plans to check them today. All she wanted was to see which emails needed responding to first so that she could create her schedule for tomorrow.

But then her eye caught an email from Emile Dadalus.

 _Dear Ms. Trinket,_

 _After further review the Office of Escort Services has decided to grant your wish of staying the Escort for District 12. There is no need to fill out the transfer papers. Please disregard them._

 _Please respond back to this email stating that you still plan to uphold all the duties you are supposed to, which were stated in your original contract. As they have not changed, you do not need to come in and resign until stated otherwise._

 _Please remember that the Escorting Class for this year's Hunger Games will be held a week before you are set to leave to your respective District. This meeting is mandatory this year as it is a Quarter Quell._

 _As always, may be the odds be ever in your favor, and Happy Hunger Game._

 _Sincerely,_

 _-_ _Emile Dedalus_

 _Head Escort for Districts 1-12_

Effie reread the email several times until it started to sink in.

She was returning to District 12.

She didn't believe in coincidences. Emile Dedalus followed orders. If she was told to keep Effie in 12, it came from someone higher up.

Haymitch had come through for her.

If only he had come through _with_ her.

Still, when she made her schedule for the next day, she put ' _Buy Haymitch a bottle_ ' at the very top in her neat, tidy, and girly handwriting.

She thought sending a note that said, _See you at the Reaping_ , would suffice.

 **XxXxXx**

Plutarch Heavensbee and President Coriolanus Snow both stayed silent as they watched the clip, up until Plutarch paused it. "The broadcast cut out here before any of the excitement happened."

"How many people saw it?" asked Snow softly, though the rage in his voice was evident.

Plutarch shrugged. "Hard to say. There was a five second delay but it happened fast."

Snow sighed and turned to stare at a couple of pictures trimmed in gold he had atop his desk. Then he launched into a story about how jabberjays were a weapon, a mutation, meant to be destroyed, but some of them had escaped in the forest and started mating with mockingbirds. This, of course, was how mockingjays had come about. Plutarch listened rapidly as Snow talked about how mockingjays shouldn't even exist, and were nothing more than offspring of their neglect that is beyond control. "If you cannot contain Katniss Everdeen, then I will have to terminate her," he finished warningly.

"I understand that," Plutarch said, agreeing.

"But not just her," and it was something about seeing him reach over and grabbing the remote, fast forwarding until the clip showed Haymitch and Peeta coming to Katniss' defense, that had Plutarch reminding himself to keep himself neutral. He had to play the game. "Her entire species has to be eliminated."

"Species, Sir?"

"The other Victors. Now because of her, they all pose a threat. Because of her, they all think they're invincible. Whatever game you think you're playing, those out there are not playing it with you."

 _That_ was the understatement of the year. When he got his hands on Haymitch…. The whole point of keeping Haymitch as a Mentor was so that he could help control the girl in 12. If he couldn't do that….

"There's a way we can still win," Plutarch said carefully, and this was the moment he had been waiting for. He didn't see why Snow wouldn't go along with it, but you never knew with this man. All their planning, for all these years. Plutarch _finally_ being made Gamekeeper… pressing for an Arena with a clock.

" _It starts at midnight_ ," he had told their Mockingjay.

All of that depended on this moment.

Snow stared at him, arching an eyebrow, so Plutarch continued. "It's what we Gamemakers like to call… a wrinkle."

About an hour later, Plutarch left, a satisfied smile on his face.

The plan was finally falling into place.

He needed to make sure he let everybody know: Chaff, Seeder, Beetee, Wireress, Finnick, Johanna, Mags, Coin, Paylor.

Everybody except Haymitch. He was being watched too closely, as were all the members of District 12.

No, they would need to be left in the dark so that their reactions would be authentic.

Plutarch just prayed Haymitch wouldn't drink himself to death at the announcement.

They would need him alive when this all came to pass.

 **XxXxXx**

Cinna and Effie had decided on the train from 12 that they would not have contact for a few weeks, when the first party was scheduled. Meeting too early might arouse suspicion.

So a week before the first major party of Spring Effie finally made her way to Cinna's studio.

He was still, calm, cool and collected Cinna, up until the moment she casually asked about District 13.

He'd been so shocked he actually stuck her with a pin.

Then, with eyes flashing, he told her to never again mention such a thing, and he was angry enough for her to realize that she had just messed up pretty badly.

Several intense and silent moments passed before Cinna asked, "Who the hell did you hear about 13 from anyway? _If_ such a place existed?"

"No one said anything," Effie said. "I was watching television and the footage started running, and I just remembered thinking about the bird that's always in the top right corner. It's a mockingjay, isn't it?" Cinna didn't respond. "Well, I was just thinking about how they've been showing the same footage for God knows how many years, and something sort of… clicked into place, I guess."

Cinna sighed, clearly thinking that she was too smart for her own good.

Changing the subject Cinna said," I have news from 12."

Now it was Effie's turn to jerk.

"A lot's happened. Katniss' shoot has been pushed back a few months." Effie raised her eyebrows. "According to Haymitch Katniss' 'cousin' Gale was caught selling illegally. He was whipped—over forty lashes—and Katniss took a few for him too."

Effie closed her eyes. "Does she have any idea what she's doing?"

"She's just reacting," Cinna said, shaking his head. "Haymitch and Peeta came to her defense, but…."

"But?"

"President Snow saw everything, up until the feed was cut, and by that time most of the damage was done. Snow's taking it for what it was: rebellious."

"Dear God."

"It's get better," Cinna said sarcastically. "According to Haymitch Katniss wanted to start an Uprising on her own." Effie whipped her head so fast her wig became crooked. "Relax. Her doing that would give Snow reason to kill her with no questions. Haymitch took her to Town to show her the error of her ways."

"What was in Town?"

"Destruction. Burning buildings. A warning." Effie sucked in a harsh breath. "As if that isn't bad enough, Katniss nor Gale can hunt now, and therefore can't trade. If they did hunt, no one would want to trade with them now. People are starving. More and more children are signing up for the tesserae."

Effie felt the headache coming. "That's probably by design. This year's the Quarter Quell. There's no telling how many people they'll pool this year." Effie scowled. "And I'll have to call their names."

"It'll be okay. At least you still have District 12. And Haymitch."

"I never had Haymitch," Effie said coldly.

"You still hate him?"

"It's easier."

"That doesn't make it right."

"Cinna, I don't want to talk about Haymitch right now," said Effie rather crossly.

Cinna smiled. "Okay. Suit yourself."

 **XxXxXx**

Effie was chatting with Dalia Fields at a party a few weeks later when a familiar pair of hands spun her around and whisked her off the dance floor.

Effie threw back her head and laughed. "Well it's a miracle. Cinna has graced us Capitol folk with his presence."

Cinna grinned. "You look perfect, Effie," he told her. She wore a pink wig—not her old signature pink wig, but a newer one, and a short floral cocktail dress with matching pink heels and accessories.

"My designer outdid himself again." Cinna smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Spill."

"President Snow contacted me." Cinna gripped her tightly so that she wouldn't give them away with the jerk of her body at the shock of his statement.

"About?' whispered Effie.

"The wedding dress for Katniss. He wanted to make sure I was still on schedule to have it done in time for the shoot. I told him I had just sent it off." He paused as Effie looked questioningly at him. "He contacted me almost immediately after we got back from the Victory Tour. He sent a few wedding dresses himself already, but apparently I needed to make one too. I think he was testing my loyalty to the Capitol.""

Effie refrained from shaking her head, and kept a smile on her face. "Have you told them?"

"No. It's definitely too risky. They're being watched too closely. As am I."

"And me?"

"With your reinstatement to 12, I believe you're in the clear. As you should be."

"Anything else?"

"Katniss is injured."

Now Effie couldn't quite hide the shock, though she recovered quickly.

"Sorry, I said that wrong. Katniss injured herself. Haymitch said she fell from climbing a tree. She should be better by the time we get there, though."

Effie nodded, willing her beating heart to slow down.

Breathe. Just breathe.

"We should go down there early. I'm going stir crazy here, and it sounds like she needs us."

Cinna shrugged. "We'd only be a few weeks early if we did," said Cinna thoughtfully.

"I'll look at my schedule, see what I can move around."

Cinna nodded but didn't let her go, so Effie figured there was more.

"Have you… noticed anything missing from these parties lately?"

"Missing? Like what?"

"I don't know… certain dishes maybe? Dishes that we usually always have at these parties, but haven't had recently?"

"Dalia was complaining about a lack of shrimp earlier—" Effie caught the look in Cinna's eye. "Oh my God. We have District 4."

Cinna gave her a full smile. "Let me know what your schedule says so we can head to 12. I myself miss Katniss."

And with that, he was gone.

So they had Districts 3, 4, 7, 8, and 11.

Effie imagined there was some sort of plan in place that had to be taking place sooner rather than later.

She had no clue how right she was.


	18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Words: 2,691

Effie spent the entire time on the train fretting over having to see Haymitch. She wasn't sure _when_ she'd see him. He wasn't required to be present at the photo shoot as it was mainly for Katniss and Peeta. And since Effie had no clue if Haymitch had been reinstated as Mentor for Katniss and Peeta, he technically _really_ didn't have to show up.

Still, it was most likely inevitable that she would see him.

They didn't stay for too long. Cinna had already said it'd be best to be in and out. It needed to look completely professional. It was why she didn't seek Haymitch out just to make sure he was alive once they arrived.

"He's fine, trust me," Peeta had assured her. "He's probably just making up for his limited amount of alcohol these past few months. Ripper's back now, and he's been taking full advantage. Though no matter how desperate he got, he never touched the bottle you gave him." Effie felt her heart stop. "He just keeps it on top of his fridge as some sort shrine or something."

When Peeta was gone Cinna, who had been close by and listening, smiled at Effie. "I wonder what that means," he said smoothly.

"That's he's saving it for when he's _really_ desperate," concluded Effie. "Now why don't you run along and check on our girl? Portia's got things covered on Peeta's end."

He nodded and took off towards Katniss' house while Effie fussed over Peeta. When she deemed him perfect she made her way to Katniss, taking special care not to glance at Haymitch's house as she passed.

The day was exhausting. It was difficult to keep up her façade, aside from the staying on schedule part. That was second nature for her. Plus, if they were on schedule, then they'd finish on time and she'd be back on the train, on her way home.

As the day started winding down, Effie realized that she probably wouldn't see Haymitch.

She couldn't decide and figure out if she was relieved or disappointed.

And then he walked right in, right after everything was over. Katniss had just gone back upstairs and Prim and Mrs. Everdeen were in the kitchen. Cinna had gone to Peeta's to say goodbye before he would say goodbye to Katniss.

They were alone.

They stared at each other for several moments, Effie wondering what she should say, when Cinna and Peeta appeared, slightly out of breath.

Clearly they had seen Haymitch head this way and were trying to intervene.

"Hey, Haymitch," Cinna said with a smile, and shook Haymitch's hand. Haymitch seemed to welcome the distraction.

"How'd the shoot go?" asked Haymitch.

"Smoothly, of course, since Effie was running it," Peeta said, and Effie blushed.

"Peeta, can you come here for a moment? I want to discuss something with you and Katniss," Effie said, leading Peeta towards the stairs. "I'll just go grab Katniss. Haymitch, I'm assuming you're here for dinner. Mrs. Everdeen and Prim are already in the kitchen."

"What do you wanna talk to Katniss and Peeta about?" asked Haymitch.

"Something about this year's Games. It doesn't concern you."

Maybe she had said it a little colder than she intended. Maybe he felt like he was dismissing her, which she wasn't.

Whatever it was, Haymitch went off.

"Did I say you could exclude me from talking to _our_ Tributes?" he asked coldly.

"What?"

"As far as I'm concerned, you're in _my_ District, talking to the two people _I_ protect day in and day out. What fucking right do you have to dismiss me from a conversation?"

"I-"

"The only reason you have the right to talk to Katniss and Peeta is because I got you reinstated. So don't fucking exclude me, Effie."

Effie stared at Haymitch, stunned, and then in a quiet voice, said, "Haymitch, I was going to talk about the Quarter Quell."

Haymitch looked like he'd just been slapped.

"I just—" Effie took a deep breath. "I just wanted to warn them that there was absolutely nothing they could do to prepare themselves for whatever it is President Snow had up his sleeve. I would have had to mention the 25th Games, and your Games, and I just didn't think you wanted to be here for that."

Haymitch just stared at her. Peeta looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. Cinna looked like he would knock Haymitch on his ass if he needed to.

"Quarter Quell?" Haymitch truly looked dazed, but Effie didn't care.

"Yes, this year is the 75th Hunger Games, Haymitch. And while I have always tried to have your best interest at heart, it seems like you still can't see that. _Why_ it still hurts, I'll never know."

She stalked passed Haymitch, scowling, and made her way outside, slamming the door.

Cinna turned to Peeta. "Go home, Peeta." Peeta nodded, glancing at Haymitch, and then left. Cinna turned to Haymitch. "You need a drink. You always act a right ass when you haven't had alcohol."

"I fucked up."

"You think? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I thought she was brushing me off."

"When has she _ever_ Haymitch?" Haymitch sighed and Cinna stepped closer to Haymitch. "I don't know what your deal is, but you better get your shit together by the Reaping. You two are going to have to work together again, and you've seen what can happen when you put your minds together. Get over yourself, Haymitch."

With that Cinna turned and walked away.

 **XxXxXx**

Effie holed herself up in her room the entire train ride home. When she heard Cinna knocking, and then Portia, she ignored them both, pretending she was asleep. By the time the train arrived at the station she was completely composed, but somewhat short with Cinna and Portia as she said her goodbyes.

She just didn't want to be bothered.

She made her way home, her feelings unsettled.

She wasn't only angry and hurt.

She was sad.

Because this Rebellion was supposed to bring them all together.

But funnily enough, it was Haymitch Abernathy who was the bigot.

It was a hard pill to swallow, but once she realized the truth, she found it was a lot easier to get on with her day.

Later that night she checked her email.

Her heart fluttered when she saw an email from President Snow's Office, then breathed a sigh of relief as she realized it was an invitation.

Of course it was. What else would it be? If President Snow was on to her he'd hardly send her an email. He'd either send Peacekeepers to her front door to arrest her or kill her, or he'd blow her house up to smithereens and blame it on a gas leak.

Effie took a calming breath and read the invitation.

There would be an exclusive, invite-only, special viewing party for Katniss and Peeta's photo shoot that was mandatory for her.

Effie tapped her fingers on her desk thoughtfully. Parties were rarely ever truly mandatory. The fact that this one was worried her. It meant that the Capitol was starting to keep a closer eye on those who were in their corner. They would look at how people reacted to the photos of Katniss and Peeta: were they excited, happy, skeptical?

Effie wondered if Cinna had gotten the same invite. Most likely he had. He was a prominent member of District 12's team, and was directly involved in Katniss and Peeta's photo shoot. That also meant Portia and both Cinna and Portia's prep teams would be invited as well.

She knew it would be risky to say anything over the phone so she would have to wait until she saw Cinna at the party to say anything to him.

This is why she tended to check her email at night. What if she had waited until morning? She wouldn't have had nearly enough time to prepare for this kind of acting she'd have to pull off.

The feeling that President Snow himself would be there wouldn't leave her spirit. It seemed like just the kind of sneaky thing he'd do: present the photos, making it mandatory for everyone to watch, including Katniss and Peeta.

It would be a strategic reminder that President Snow was the mastermind behind all of this, and that the two of them better comply, because they caused this by deciding to be rebellious and threatening to eat a mouthful of berries.

For the most part Effie always felt down for the cause. But sometimes, during moments like this, she questioned if any of it was ever truly worth it. Two people were losing their ability to love and marry whomever they wanted. It honestly didn't seem fair.

But the things that President Snow had done over the years were hardly fair either.

She had to remember that.

Things he had done to people all over this country, from Seneca all the way to Haymitch.

 _Haymitch_ , she scoffed to herself.

By the time she went to the release party for Katniss and Peeta's photo shoot, Haymitch was out of her system, and there was nothing that would ever change that.

 **XxXxXx**

Effie decided to dress herself in one of the many outfits Cinna had given her over the past several months, ever since he'd become her fashion designer.

As she browsed through her closet she came across the Seam gray dress Cinna had designed for her for the Victory Ball. That night seemed like a lifetime ago. She pushed it aside and kept digging.

She found a beautiful yellow dress that reminded her of the color of Peeta's hair. It was floor-length with a gold sweetheart neckline. She found a pair of strapped gold heels and a gold wig to match, and then set off to shower.

Afterwards she sat in her robe and pinned up her natural hair. Then she applied her makeup, using yellow on her eyelids and gold on her eyelashes and her lips. She put on her earrings, a pair of canary yellow diamonds that her mother had given her for her thirtieth birthday. Then she painted her feet and nails the same gold that was on eyelids and eyelashes and waited for them to dry.

She could have gone and met Cinna, and he could have done all this for her, but she knew and understood that she would need to do this herself. She knew and understood that whatever was taking place tonight, and something deep down in her soul told her that there was an alternate agenda for releasing these photos so soon, she knew that she would have to be on her best behavior.

It had been a while since she had painted and powdered her face herself, but she did so today. She started off nervous, and worried, her hands shaking as she applied her foundation.

But by the time she slipped on her dress, her hands were steady, her mask in place.

She gave herself one final glance, noting she looked perfect, and when she smiled, it actually reached her eyes.

Effie Trinket, Rebel, was tucked quietly away at home.

Effie Trinket, Capitol Escort, would be present at the party.

 **XxXxXx**

Effie and Cinna took their bows at the crowds—and Caesar Flickermman's—insistence, Portia and both her and Cinna's prep teams doing the same. They were being thanked and applauded for all their hard work in regards to the photo shoot while everything got set up. Officially on camera, Cinna would be the only one who was thanked, so he stood near the stage as he waited for his cue.

Effie got as far away from the stage—and therefore, President Snow—that she could.

She watched in awe along with the rest of the crowd at the photos of Katniss. She herself had voted, just like a proper Capitol Escort should. It was of much topic and debate when she had lunch with a few Escorts earlier, as it was when she had stepped out earlier for brunch.

She talked to all the guests about it upon her arrival—which one did you choose? Oh yes, that one was pretty too. Katniss did look absolutely beautiful, yes. Isn't it wonderful for President Snow to have the wedding, right here in the Capitol? How on earth did Cinna find the time to design so many?

Maybe because Haymitch had warned him to start designing wedding gowns months ago, on the Victory Tour.

Oops. That thought slipped.

She shook her head to clear it.

Those thoughts, particularly anyone that had to do with Haymitch Abernathy, were not permitted.

And then Caesar Flickerman confirmed her suspicions and told them all to stay put for the other major announcement: the reading from the cards for the Quarter Quell.

Effie's heart stopped. She immediately started heading towards Cinna, keeping her smile in place, smiling as she passed people.

When she reached him he grinned, happy to see her, and gave her a brief hug.

And then, under the false pretenses of fixing her earring, Cinna bent down and said quietly, his lips barely moving, "Whatever that man says, you will be happy. Jump up and down excitedly, like the rest of us will be doing."

She threw back her head and laughed, and he chimed in, though they sobered up rather quickly when President Snow stepped onto the stage.

She was nervous, but she couldn't show it. All she knew was that she had a very bad feeling about this. The Quarter Quell was months away. It was awfully early for an announcement, wasn't it?

Effie kept her smile glued into place as President Snow started to speak.

She was utterly relieved that Cinna had warned her what to do, because as she listened to Snow, she wanted to do nothing more than throw up everything she had forced down her throat for the past couple of hours.

""On the twenty-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district was made to hold an election and vote on the tributes who would represent it. On the fiftieth anniversary, as a reminder that two rebels died for each Capitol citizen, every district was required to send twice as many tributes." Effie held her breath, clutching Cinna's arms much like she did to Haymitch while they were watching last year's Games, as she waited for Snow to continue. This was it. "And now we honor our third Quarter Quell," Snow said, and they all watched as the boy, dressed in white, opened the lid. President Snow takes out the envelope and opens it. He began reading without hesitating. "On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors."

Stunned silence is the only thing Effie could think of.

And then it sunk in.

 _Remaining pool of Victors_.

Cinna clutched her tightly as he felt her body lurch forward.

 _Pool of Victors_.

Oh no. No, no, no, no, no. It can't be. It was impossible.

The people at the party, even the most elite, were whispering, confused, so Effie didn't feel at all out of place, though she was pretty sure she was the only one who was about to faint.

She could feel the bile in her throat, understanding everything, yet understanding nothing.

President Snow was punishing them.

All three of them.

And it wasn't Katniss and Peeta she was thinking about right now as Cinna clutched her tightly, trying to remind her to compose herself and not to give anything away.

When the pain of his nails digging in her flesh became unbearable she smiled wider, and finally started clapping and cheering with the rest of them.

But it was all for show.

She thought of her vow to never think about Haymitch again, and how that was now clearly out of the window.

Haymitch was _all_ she could think about.


	19. Chapter 19

**FILLER CHAPTER. I HATE THOSE. BLAH. FYI this scene below is completely and totally made up in my head. It's not like the other scenes between these two that were from the movie.**

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Words: 2,288

President Snow paused the feed and stared at Plutarch. "She's stunned," he told the Head Gamekeeper.

Plutarch shrugged casually. "No more so than the rest of the crowd. You have to admit, it was quite a shock."

President Snow turned back to his screen, a frown on his face. "She's close to Cinna, and Cinna… I don't trust."

"Are people guilty by association now?" asked Plutarch.

"Yes, Sir, they are! It has come to that!" President Snow scowled and Plutarch watched as the President made a clear effort to calm himself. "All I'm saying is that I see worry in her eyes. And sadness."

"Well she's the only Escort with current Victors. I'm sure she feels… _something_ for them."

"She's not supposed to. It's there in the contract, clear as day."

"You can't go through the Games, come out with Victors, and not feel _something_. Even us Gamekeepers find ourselves slightly rooting for someone by the end of it all."

"Yes, and Seneca paid for it with his life," President Snow said coldly.

That shut Plutarch up, though he recovered quickly. "I said it once, and I'll say it again. I highly doubt you have to worry about Effie Trinket."

Snow stared at the feed again, and the fear in Effie's eyes that she couldn't quite hide in time.

The camera hid nothing.

"I'll keep a close eye on her," Snow said coolly. "She should watch the company she keeps."

"Well Cinna is her designer," reasoned Plutarch. "He's the designer for several prominent members of the Capitol."

"I know that, Plutarch."

"And they're going to be spending a lot more time together now that Effie's been reinstated as District 12's Escort."

"A decision I'm starting to regret more and more."

"Mr. President, may I be frank?" Snow nodded, once. "There's no way Katniss Everdeen is leaving this Arena alive. No way in hell. And if Haymitch goes back to he Arena… well I'm sure that's who you're hoping for." Snow's silence was confirmation enough. "We'll have something special planned for him."

"And if Peeta goes into the Arena?"

Plutarch smiled. "Haymitch is just one man. He'll be busy getting Sponsors and things, trying to keep those two alive. Or he'll do as he used to do and realize it's a lost cause and give up. Either way, one man can't plan a Rebellion. Katniss is the main issue. She's going in regardless."

Snow stroked his beard thoughtfully. "So you're telling me you have no suspicions about anyone? Cinna? Portia?" He glanced at his screen again. "Effie?"

"I thought I've made it clear where I've stood on that," Plutarch said. "And if you find out I'm wrong… well then… do what you do best."

President Snow nodded and stood up. "Okay. We'll continue to do things your way." He stared into Plutarch's eyes. "For now."

Plutarch nodded and started to leave.

"Do we know where she went after the party?"

"I'm going to assume home," Plutarch said.

"She went to Cinna's."

Plutarch felt his blood run cold. "You followed them?"

"No. I had someone watching her apartment. She didn't get home until this morning."

Fucking Effie.

"Maybe she was drunk," reasoned Plutarch.

"Maybe you're looking for excuses."

"Maybe I'm playing Devil's Advocate because you're looking for reasons." Snow arched an eyebrow. "Don't let Katniss Everdeen make everybody else look suspicious. Haymitch Abernathy? Maybe he holds a grudge. But Cinna? Portia? Effie? You're reaching, Sir. With all due respect."

"Maybe I am. But I want her house tapped. I know I can't reach Cinna's place. My gut is telling me he strategically picked his place of residency because it can't be interfered with."

"That building _screams_ Cinna," Plutarch argued carefully. "It's dark, mysterious, sleek. It's everything Cinna is."

"I don't trust him," said Snow plainly.

"Well you can't just kill him."

"Oh?"

"Listen, if Cinna is who you say he is, he'll present an opportunity for you to kill him."

"And at what cost? How many people will see and/or hear whatever he does to warrant it?"

"I think killing anyone at this point will make you look fearful and desperate, Mr. President. You're supposed to be poised, in control. Unbothered even. Cinna and Effie… I just think there are bigger fish to fry, and they'll be fried in a few months, in the Arena."

Snow stayed quiet for several moments, his eyes once again glued to his screen. "Okay."

Plutarch was at the door when he heard President Snow mutter, "You get to live another day, Ms. Trinket. Lucky you."

Plutarch made sure he kept his face completely neutral.

There were cameras everywhere here.

 **XxXxXx**

Cool, calm, and collected Cinna actually jerked when Effie told him that she was being followed.

"They think I don't know, but I do." She tried to keep her voice was from shaking.

"Effie, if they suspect you, then they suspect me. This isn't good." They sat across from each other, sipping lemonade.

Hers was spiked.

"I know. What should I do?"

"We stop everything. We don't even have discussions anymore. You come here and it's strictly professional. Don't think aloud. Don't write anything down. If they suspect you they've probably tapped your house. Don't act any differently, Effie. If you walk around naked, keep doing so. If you sing at the top of your lungs to the radio, do that as well."

Effie chewed on her bottom lip and then nodded.

"I think it's time we tell Haymitch you're in on all of this."

Effie took a deep breath. "Okay."

"In the meantime, what's your plan?"

"I do what I'm supposed to. It's the Quarter Quell. I need to find all the old videos of every Game ever, at least dating back to the first Victor that'll be in the Games this year. I also think I should try and collect the first Quarter Quell as well."

Cinna paused. "And Haymitch's?"

Effie sighed. "I already own his. It'll certainly be hell dealing with him this year."

"Maybe not," smiled Cinna.

"I should go," Effie said, standing. Cinna nodded his agreement.

"Before you do, though, know that the train will probably be bugged as well, most likely only with audio. You won't really be able to talk there. The Penthouse and Headquarters won't pose as big as a problem. That space is larger and the TV will be blaring during the Games." Effie nodded. "I'll see you around, Effie."

"Goodbye, Cinna."

 **XxXxXx**

The two Peacekeepers stepped aside once Plutarch held up his badge. They nodded to him and allowed him to pass through the set of locked double doors.

Inside the dark chamber Plutarch made his way down a winding staircase, lights flashing on as he passed the sensors.

There were no cameras down here.

No eyes.

No audio.

He was not the least bit worried that he could be caught.

Out of everybody in Panem, he was the only one with a key to this room.

Not even President Snow himself could have gotten in this room.

With the air of a man who knew what he was doing, Plutarch Heavensbeen took out a minute key and opened up the mailbox with the number 75 engraved on it. He took out a box, unlocked it, and grabbed the envelope with a matching 75 on the back.

He placed it off to the side, and then took out a matching envelop from inside his coat pocket, and then placed inside the box, making sure it faced the same way that the previous envelope had. Then he locked the box back up, placed it back in its mailbox, and locked that.

He took out a lighter and set the original envelope on fire.

Then he walked away, a smile on his face.

He had just ensured that Haymitch Abernathy's name would be called at the Reaping.

 **XxXxXx**

Effie made her usual appearances around the Capitol, eating at her normal dining places and ordering her favorite desserts. She kept scheduling lunches and entertaining people with meetings.

She kept laughing, and talking, and smiling.

At work it was easier to act stand offish. People understood that the Games were only a few months away, and that with it being a Quarter Quell, it was important to be prepared.

By the time she arrived at her mandatory meeting for the Escorts she was exhausted from all the pretending, though most people would probably assume it was from all the running around she was doing.

District 12 was still the favorites.

It was strange, really, how people were talking about all three Victors of District 12.

Katniss and Haymitch were the ones most talked about, though Peeta got his fair share of supporters as well.

The things that people said literally made her sick to her stomach, particularly when people would state the fact that Haymitch survived his Game by beating out forty-nine other people.

"If he can do that, he can easily get to twenty-three, even if he has to kill his own Tribute."

She wasn't sure how she had survived the past few months, or the stupid Escorts meeting drowning on and on about policies and procedures that didn't mean anything whatsoever because it was a bloody _Quarter Quell_.

Two days before she was set to leave to 12, Effie made her way to Cinna's for what she didn't know would be the last time. She had to pick up her suit for the trip.

"There will be a meeting the day we arrive back in the Capitol after the Reaping. Plutarch wants you there." Effie's eyebrows shot up into her wig. This was the first time in months that they had mentioned anything that wasn't purely platonic. "He thinks it's time. It'll be a quick meeting, one that'll take place while Katniss and Peeta are being prepped. Everybody will think Portia and I are getting ready for that. You need to be seen mingling with the Capitol citizens before you find your way to the meeting. I'll let you know where it is when I find out."

"I'll be there."

She left, making sure that her bags holding her outfits could be seen. She hadn't been in Cinna's place for more than ten minutes. Anyone spying would think she had just gone to pick up her dresses.

She had stopped being followed a couple of months ago. She had been careful to make sure they didn't pick up on the fact that she knew, though she felt entirely too relieved to finally have her days back.

She had no time to worry about anything, though she couldn't get Haymitch off of her mind. Anytime she had down time that's who she was worried about, who she kept thinking about.

Not that she wasn't worried about Katniss and Peeta.

It was just… Haymitch's Games had literally destroyed him. He'd never recovered from it. Now he was supposed to go in and kill other Victors. People who were smart and intelligent, just like him.

How the hell was she supposed to call his name at the Reaping?

Or any of their names?

How could she send any of them back into the Arena?

And how the hell could she not take it personally.

Because that's what it was: personal.

Surely this wasn't coincidental.

Every time she thought about having to pull Haymitch's name out of that damned fishbowl she thought she'd be sick. She had to literally force herself to calm down. She could only assume that Cinna was right and that her house was bugged, so she couldn't be seen throwing up or pacing around her house with worry.

So she had to keep pretending, even while she was at home, that she was completely unaffected and unbothered by the Quarter Quell news.

She had to keep playing the part of the perfect Capitol puppet, no matter how difficult it was.

She couldn't raise anymore suspicions about herself, because when this all went to hell—and Effie could only assume that at some point, it would—she had to be ready and prepared.

No one had ever talked to her about escaping, or where these Headquarters were. That could only mean one thing: they thought she was safer in the Capitol. And if she was going to be safe in the Capitol, she had to play her part accordingly.

So the night before she left Effie went over her schedule. As the winning Escort of last year's Games she got first dibs on Sponsors. A pre-approved list of Sponsors was sent to her about a week ago, where she got to pick which Sponsors she thought they would need. She was the one who had to set up the meetings so that she could meet with them. She placed them in the order she thought was best and set up the times. There were half a dozen out of the twelve that she figured were most important. After she met with them she would give the list to Haymitch.

Or Peeta.

Because there was a fifty-fifty chance that Haymitch would be going back into that Arena, and Peeta would be the Mentor.

The thought made her hand start shaking as she wrote out her schedule.

She had absolutely, positively, no bloody idea or clue how she was going to do this. She didn't think it'd be possible to pull this off. To stand up there, on that stage, and send back to the Arena the very people she cared about the most.

Knowing that if she refused to do so with a smile, they would kill her.

Knowing that she might already be on their kill list.

She knew she needed to pull this off.

She just didn't know how.


	20. Chapter 20

**IT'S TUESDAY! FAVORITE chapter, hands down. I pray you all like it just as much! Let me know in a Review!**

CHAPTER TWENTY

Words: 2,919

The train always arrived in 12 around dawn the morning of the Reaping. Normally Effie would rest until a few hours before show time, where she would make her way to Haymitch's and make sure that he was up, dressed, and at least sober enough to get on stage.

Last year had been a complete and utter disaster from the outside looking in. She still remembered that hug…. Whatever it took to get the attention off their girl, though.

This year would be different. This year he would be… he'd be forced to be….

Effie couldn't bring herself to say it.

So when the train arrived in 12, Effie showered, redressed in a simple silk gold dress, put on a pair of large shades that covered most of her face, and left the train, throwing on a summer coat with a hood as she did.

Her heels crunched in the dirt as she made her way across town. 12 was deserted for the most part at this time, aside from a few lights shining through different windows. Even the amount of Peacekeepers was limited, as most of the residents were still asleep.

Most people walked in 12. Effie had been here once a year for twenty years and had never once seen a car, but she wouldn't have called on one even if it were an option.

Walking, she found, cleared her head.

Her heart pounded as she made her way to Victor's Village. It was a familiar path, because she'd taken it several times before.

Never this early, though, and never with such a heavy heart.

And she had never done what she was about to do today.

She had to do this.

She had to get this off her chest.

When she arrived at the kissing gates of Victors Village she was surprised to see two Peacekeepers standing guard.

What the hell?

They shared a glance with each other when they first saw her approaching, but they didn't bother her. They just moved aside and let her walk through.

Keeping her head up she bid them good morning and walked through the gates like she owned the joint.

She had to remind herself she was Effie Trinket, Capitol Escort, when she saw the amount of Peacekeepers in front of Katniss and Peeta's house.

She thought she might faint at the amount present in front of Haymitch's house.

They all stared at her, in their ominous white suits, their guns glistening in the soft sunlight peeking over the horizon. About two dozen stood in front of the house: six on each side of the stairs, and another twelve on the porch.

Effie wasn't sure what protocol here was, but she decided that she was Effie Trinket, damn it, and she was only paying a visit to one of her Tributes.

They couldn't stop her.

So she marched up the steps and made her way to the front door.

She had no idea which Peacekeeper grabbed her, but suddenly she was grabbed roughly and pushed against one of the pillars of the porch.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" asked the Peacekeeper, and Effie instantly recognized the voice of the man from District 11 on the Victory Tour.

"I'm going to visit one of my Tributes," Effie responded coldly, trying to keep the fear at bay. He was hurting her.

"No one goes in or out until the Reaping."

"Well if I don't go in there and check on Haymitch, he might not make it to the Reaping. He's a drunk, remember?"

The Peacekeeper snarled and pushed her even closer, pinning her even tighter to the pillar. She cringed.

"Damn it let me go," she said, trying to wrestle out of his grip, but he only gripped her tighter. "You're hurting me!"

At that moment Haymitch's door swung open and a loud _thud_ echoed around the porch. Effie gasped at the knife that was lodged mere inches away from the Peacekeeper's hand. Two seconds later every Peacekeeper had their gun pointed at Haymitch.

"Let her go," said Haymitch darkly, his eyes flashing. He didn't look at all like he was afraid, and Effie saw how this man could have beat our forty-seven other Tributes, and how he'd killed eight of them himself.

"Get back inside," the leader said.

"You let her go, or you'll have to kill me." Effie stared, her eyes wide, as Haymitch grabbed another knife from behind his back. "Trust me. I ain't got much to lose at this point. I don't mind taking any of you out with me."

"She's not supposed to be here."

"She's never supposed to be here, yet somehow, someway, every year she finds herself at my doorstep. Something about making sure I'm ready for the Reaping. You still have a hold on her."

The leader roughly threw her towards Haymitch, who instinctively caught her around the waist and kept her balanced. He gripped her tightly around the hips, digging his nails into her flesh, and Effie knew he was pissed.

It was too risky, too foolish for her to be here. She should have known better.

It was too late now, though.

"Get inside, Effie," he told her, and she didn't even think about arguing. She stepped inside his… _clean_ place, and looked around in shock.

A few seconds later she heard the unmistakable sound of Haymitch removing the knife he threw out of the pillar, and then a few seconds later, the door slammed shut.

He brushed passed her and Effie stood there, in the middle of the room, as he sat down on a chair in front of the window, and next to the fireplace. She could tell he wasn't drunk. Not in the least. And though he was only dressed in a pair of sweats and a crewneck, he already looked clean and lined up.

Haymitch stared at her, and she stared back, and they both realized that the last time they had seen each other they hadn't left on good terms.

The last two times, really.

Finally Haymitch broke the silence. "I assume you've come to say goodbye?"

 **XxXxXx**

She hadn't changed much in twenty years. She was still just as petite as she was her first year when she had knocked softly on his door and had gotten cursed out for disturbing his sleep. She'd been shocked and upset about his behavior, but even then she'd been determined.

She didn't scare easily.

She'd told him her name was Effie Trinket, and that she was the new Escort for District 12, and that she was here to make sure that he showed up to the Reaping on time.

"Silka Rollo told me all about your… habit," she had said, glancing down at the bottle in his hand, "and how you hardly ever showed up to the Reaping at a decent time. We can't have that now that I'm your Escort, Mr. Abernathy."

She'd annoyed the shit out of him even then, and it'd only gotten worse over the years.

Yet here she was, so many years later, and she hadn't walked out on him, or turned her back on him, or given up on him.

She'd hardly aged in twenty years—or at least he assumed she hadn't underneath all the cake. The hair got more colorful, or got bigger or smaller, depending what was in style. The makeup became bolder, or more muted, depending on what the occasion called for. But underneath it all, she had always remained Effie Trinket.

Always damned beautiful.

And fucking tempting.

Sometimes, particularly recently, she actually made him feel like a man.

He had to constantly remind himself that she was a prominent member of the Capitol. The Capitol he hated. By extension, he had to hate her.

So he was crueler than he needed to be, in order to help him keep his distance.

He drank more than he needed to in order to make him forget how the brightness in her blue eyes had dimmed over the years. He drank himself sick to forget about how forced her smile seemed.

He pretended not to remember the nights she held his hair back when he threw up everything he drank.

And somewhere along the way Haymitch had gotten used to the way she fussed over him. Laid out his clothes. Made sure he ate and was taken care of.

And then last year… last year he was forced to be sober for the majority of the Games, and it took all of ten seconds to realize that Effie Trinket wasn't a Capitol puppet at all, but a regular, bleeding human being, just like him.

She hurt, just like him.

She was broken, just like him.

It was a hard pill to swallow when you find yourself attracted to the very thing you were supposed to hate.

And never mind the sweet things she did without thought, like placing a blanket over you when you passed out drunk.

Or sending a bottle of the best white alcohol the Capitol had to offer as a means of thanks, wrapped in a pink bow no less that was completely and utterly one hundred percent Effie Trinket.

And arriving at your doorstep, at the crack of dawn, to apologize—or so he assumed—for a fight that she hadn't even caused because she knew it might be the last time she got to do so.

Effie didn't immediately answer his question. Instead she unbuttoned her summer jacket, allowing her hood to fall off, and took off her sunglasses, revealing a simple—by Effie standards—gold dress and heels. The two discarded items pooled around her feet.

Haymitch stared.

She might as well be naked. Her hair was down again, its curls looking lovely and luscious. Her face was bare, free from all makeup, and he realized that his earlier assessment was right: she hadn't aged much in twenty years.

Except for her eyes.

Her eyes were darker, sadder, and fearful.

And filled with a heat Haymitch had never seen.

"I came here this morning to tell you that _this_ Effie," she motioned to her natural face and hair, "Would rather be killed than pull your name out of a damned glass fishbowl today."

Her voice was wavering, her eyes filling with unshed tears.

"I won't do it, Haymitch. I'd much rather those Peacekeepers kill me first." She looked him dead in his eye. "Or President Snow himself."

Haymitch was too stunned to even move.

"I couldn't live with myself if I placed you back in that Arena today."

She took a deep breath, and a single tear fell down her cheek. "I'm not here to say goodbye, Haymitch. I'm here to say sorry. I am so sorry."

He stood slowly, turning away from her tears, because damn it all to hell if she weren't about to completely undo him.

He was unprepared.

This was the last thing he had expected.

"Effie," he said quietly, and now he turned around to face her. "You need to pull yourself together. No matter what happens, you have to do your job."

"I _hate_ my job, Haymitch."

He walked up to her then, angrily, and grabbed her. "You can't _say_ things like that, Effie. Got damn it, they will kill you! Not just you, but your family. There are Peacekeepers right outside my door just _itching_ to kill someone. So for once just shut up and do what you're told."

"Haymitch, you're hurting me."

He let her go like she were on fire and had burned him. "Jesus Christ. I'm sorry."

"It's not you," she said, rubbing her arms. "You just grabbed me in the same place the Peacekeeper did."

He scowled as he glanced at the door, and then turned back to her, his eyes softening just a hair. "I've got something that'll help that bruise," he told her, and he disappeared upstairs for a few moments, and then came back with some sort of tube filled with cream. "Lord knows I've fallen enough times in my drunken stupors to hurt myself," he responded at the questioning look in her eyes.

"Speaking of drunken stupors," said Effie as Haymitch applied the cream to her arms, and she had to stop herself from shivering at his touch, and her voice from shaking. "You seem awfully sober."

"The boy's had us training like Careers," Haymitch muttered distractedly.

"That explains the muscle," said Effie, and she hadn't realized she'd said it aloud until she caught Haymitch's arched eyebrow. "What? You look better than I remember is all."

Haymitch stared at her for a second longer and then slowly screwed the cap of the cream back on.

She knew him, knew this man.

It was definitely the calm before the storm.

Sure enough, he snapped, throwing the tube across the room. "You listen, and you listen to me well, Effie. You have to do your job. You smile. You say your stupid little speech. You act like this doesn't bother you. It shouldn't bother you. It's not supposed to bother you. You're supposed to be like every other Escort in every other District, okay? I don't care whose name you call."

"I care," she said furiously. "This is going to be the worst thing I've ever had to do. How do I call your name and send you back into that Arena, Haymitch?"

"You shouldn't be worried if they call my name," said Haymitch after a long pause.

Effie stared at him, blinking for a few moments. "Oh my God," she whispered. "Peeta's going to volunteer for you."

"Course he is. He's not gonna let Katniss go back into that Arena alone. He'd kill me first."

Effie kept staring at Haymitch, who wasn't meeting her eye. "But if I call Peeta's name…?"

Haymitch didn't answer.

She felt her knees go weak. "If I call Peeta's name… you'll volunteer for him?"

"I have to." Now he looked at her. "I promised Katniss I would."

 **XxXxXx**

Effie felt like screaming, _What about me? What about what_ _ **I**_ _want_? But she restrained herself, because the truth is she didn't want any of them to go back into the Arena.

"I don't want to send any of you back," she finally said softly.

"You ain't got a choice, Princess."

Effie finally wiped the tears that had fallen, and she wasn't sure what it was about that action that made him pull her to him. He brushed her tears away with his calloused thumbs, staring at her intently.

"You put on your wig and makeup and stupid dress, your skyscraper heels, and you pick our names outta that stupid glass fishbowl with a painted smile on your painted face, okay Princess? You go out there and be the Capitol bitch I know you can be. Because this Effie? This beautiful, vulnerable, sad Effie I'm looking at, will be just as dead as Capitol Effie. You're one of _them_ okay? That's all you can ever be." He stared at her, now caressing her cheek gently, thought she was pretty sure he was unaware he was doing so. "There is absolutely no room for someone like you in a Rebellion. And deep down I think you know that."

Effie stiffened as she stared at him, and he kept eye contact.

His gray eyes were dark with challenge, daring her to disagree.

"I wish to God it were different, Effie," he whispered.

And then he kissed her, _really_ kissed her, one hand on her cheek, the other on the small of her back, pulling her closer to him. She immediately kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck. When his tongue slid inside her mouth she thought she'd faint, or die from a heart attack with the way her heart was pounding.

He broke away first and rested his forehead against hers, breathing deeply.

She could feel his heart pounding and his hands trembling as they made their way up her body and to her face again.

"That never happened, okay?" he said quietly. "Because you're the Capitol, and you represent everything I hate. Get back on that train, put on a ridiculous outfit, and parade around like you're the leader of the circus. That's the only way this will work."

She heard the underlying meaning: it'd be the only way he could function.

He couldn't handle her being on the right side of things.

Well he'd certainly get a rude awakening at that meeting tomorrow.

For now, she'd let him have his moment.

"I'll see you at the Reaping, Haymitch," she said softly, and he removed his hands from her face.

"Pray to God you pull my name out of that fishbowl, Princess."

She had turned and was already putting on her coat and sunglasses when he spoke those words. She tied the jacket back on, and then walked back up to him.

"This is just in case I pull Peeta's name, then." And she yanked him forward and gave him a kiss that made her own toes curl.

She didn't let go until she heard him moan.

It was the most amazing sound ever.

"Something to remember me by in case you're in the Arena."

She walked away, but when she reached the door she turned to look at him, and was thrilled to see the stunned look still on his face. "I expect you on time and dressed for the Reaping."

With that she was gone, headed back to the train to get ready.


	21. Chapter 21

**TUESDAY IS AMONG US! You'll be upset. It starts off so well and then… well… the odds still aren't in Haymitch and Effie's favor yet LOL. PATIENCE =)**

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Words: 2,713

The confidence she had displayed when she left Haymitch's quickly evaporated.

By the time she started putting on her face she had to start over and reapply her makeup three different times because her hands were shaking too badly.

Finally she was able to put on her face and apply her eyelashes and butterfly wings. Then she strategically placed a gold Mockingjay wig on her head, carefully putting it into place as to not disturb the butterfly wings.

Then she slid on her orange butterfly dress, snapping the halter top around her neck, and put on her pair of black pumps. She finished the ensemble with a pair of black lace gloves.

Afterwards she stared at herself, smoothing the dress down in some places.

Cinna was going to kill her when he saw the changes she'd made to his dress. Adding the butterflies had been her idea. He definitely would have talked her out of it if he had known.

And the wig? To boldly display the Mockingjay at a time like this was risky. However most people in the Capitol had no clue what it meant, so she was hoping most people would assume she didn't know either.

Satisfied that she looked good, Effie made her way off of the train, and towards the stage, where she'd give a performance of a lifetime.

On the way there she prayed that somehow, someway, all three of them would come out alive at the end of this thing.

 **XxXxXx**

Cinna nearly wet himself when he saw Effie on stage. He made sure to keep his face blank and void of all emotions as he watched her walk on stage, gold Mockingjay wig high on her head, tight butterfly dress clutching her body.

He would kill her.

Portia dug her nails into his thigh as they sat along with the rest of the people of Panem, watching the Reaping live.

"Effie's dress is _so_ cute," one Capitol puppet said, and Cinna whipped his head around. "Butterflies! How clever! I love it."

"She always did know how to dress," another bimbo commented.

These comments did nothing to calm him. Of course these people were too stupid to get it.

But its meaning would not be lost on President Snow.

"I have to get a wig like hers," another one said. "Mockingjays are _so_ in."

Cinna gritted his teeth.

Yes, he was going to enjoy killing Effie Trinket.

He ordered another drink, something hard and bitter, and watched, a pleasant smile on his face, even as his insides were clenching.

The Peacekeepers marched Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch towards the stage, giving the crowd their first glimpse of District 12 and the amount of Peacekeepers present, their guns pointed at the crowd.

Cinna nearly shared a glance with Portia, but refrained himself.

Instead he gripped her hand, which had probably left bruises on his skin.

The entire Reaping couldn't have taken more than a minute.

The longest part of the entire ordeal was the amount of time it took for Effie to withdraw the name that everyone knew for sure would be going back into the Arena.

"Katniss Everdeen," Effie finally said, and she stared at the girl apologetically. A single, loan tear traveled down Katniss' face and Cinna felt his heart stop.

Then Effie turned towards Haymitch and Peeta, and Cinna very much doubted that anybody, even President Snow, could make out the hurt and fear.

Effie would never forgive herself if Haymitch went back into the Arena.

With trembling hands she reached into the glass bowl, her long, dainty, painted fingers grabbing a piece of paper.

The entire crowd hushed in order to hear who it was. Cinna knew that most people were betting on Haymitch, former Victor of the last Quarter Quell. It would make for excellent TV.

Effie slowly, ever so slowly, opened up the piece paper, her hands shaking slightly.

Cinna knew her, so he knew the name on the piece of paper before she even said it.

He breathed a little easier.

Haymitch would not be going back into the Arena.

Peeta would.

Effie licked her lips and then said, her voice quivering ever so slightly, "Haymitch Abernathy.

And she frowned.

Portia dug her nails into his skin again, and Cinna knew that she had caught it too.

Effie was supposed to be happy, cheerful, excited even.

She was none of those things, and it showed.

At the very least she would lose her job, but if Snow already suspected her….

The crowd started to cheer, disrupting his train of thoughts, and the frown was gone so fast once Peeta volunteered, replaced even more briefly with relieved eyes as she looked up at Peeta.

Still, Effie wasn't making this easy, for them or herself. The video never played. Nor did she say the standard, "Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor."

Katniss and Peeta took their respective places up front, next to Effie, and then they were whisked away without being allowed to say goodbye.

 **XxXxXx**

Effie found her way to Haymitch's room shortly after they were forced on the train. She didn't knock. She just entered, closing the door behind her.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, closest to the door, and he looked as if he'd aged a million years within the last hour.

"I wondered how long it'd take you to get here," he said, his voice neutral. She just stared at him. "Got damn fucking butterflies. You're a fucking idiot, Effie."

"Haymitch," was all she was able to say before the tears threatened to spill. She walked up to him and pulled him to her, just holding him, feeling him, breathing him in.

"Princess," Haymitch muttered, stiff against her.

"Just give me ten seconds," she whispered, pulling him closer, and finally he relaxed, snaking his arms around her waist and burying his face in her stomach, breathing deeply as for the first time in probably twenty-five years, he let the emotions consume him.

But he didn't cry.

He'd never cry.

Not her Haymitch.

"I did this, Effie," he whispered to her. "I sent those kids back into the Arena."

He was free to talk openly. All the speakers played music, and would from here to the Capitol

"Haymitch," said Effie, pushing him back to look at him.

"I did. Snow wanted me back in that Arena. It's been too much going on since the berries, and figuring I'm the last person who openly defied the Capitol, and then Katniss, just like me in so many ways, comes along and does the same thing…." He rubbed his hands over his face. "All the Uprisings and shit…. Sending us into the Arena was logical, but I was so fucking blind sighted…. And fuck it to hell if I wasn't happy Peeta volunteered. I didn't wanna go back in. What does that mean? Who does that make me?"

"It makes you human, Haymitch Abernathy," Effie told him, bending down so she was eyelevel.

"I hate myself," admitted Haymitch.

She knew that feeling all too well, so she pulled him back into her, because it seemed like the right thing to do.

She wasn't sure how long they embraced, but he didn't pull away, and neither did she.

After a while she said, "The kids have to watch your Games." He jerked violently and she held him tighter. "I know. I'm sorry." She gently pushed him away and looked at him. "Petea told me yours are the only ones they haven't watched yet. I sent them all the Games months ago, but they haven't seen yours. But they have to."

He nodded and she slowly stood up.

"Dinner will be ready soon. I expect you dressed for the occasion."

She allowed her touch to linger before making her exit.

 **XxXxXx**

Dinner was pretty much a silent affair, aside from a few pointless attempts at Peeta and her trying to make conversation.

She mentioned something about getting the boys a few gold trinkets so that everyone would know that they were a team, but she could tell she was falling on deaf ears when Haymitch said,

"Yah, whatever," without really looking at her.

She was actually relieved. That meant he wouldn't try and talk her out of it.

She was, after all, once again blatantly defying the Capitol.

After dinner they watched the Reaping recap, Peeta taking notes, and Effie making random comments to try and help, while Katniss and Haymitch both sat, sullen.

When Haymitch finally got up after awhile, without saying a word, she had the mind to follow him and comfort him. But she knew him. He needed to be alone.

He'd probably go and find one of the few bottles of wine she had, and she hoped he enjoyed it, because most of them had been poured down the sink in hopes that he wouldn't be tempted.

They all went off to bed afterwards, dinner having been a sordid affair, and Effie undressed, took off her makeup and wig, and showered after stopping outside Haymitch's door. She debated about going in but in the end decided against it.

She was asleep in seconds, and slept better than she had in months.

She was finally with the people she cared about the most.

 **XxXxXx**

He surely had found one of her bottles of wine. She'd thrown out the good stuff, but he needed _something_ to take the edge off.

Haymitch didn't sleep in the dark. There were too many things running through his mind. For once his head was back in the Rebellion now that the threat of having to return to the Arena was over.

There had been so many nightmares between the announcement of the Quarter Quell and this moment that one would think he'd try to sleep immediately.

But it was still dark, and the nightmares would come, so he'd will himself to stay awake until sunrise.

He walked into the living room and stopped abruptly as he recognized his Games.

He felt the bile at the back of his throat and took a large sip.

Then his eyes narrowed at Katniss as she fell out laughing, claiming that what he had done was just as bad as the berries.

"Almost, but not quite," Haymitch said, and the laughing stops abruptly as Katniss turned and faced him.

She seemed genuinely surprised that he wasn't going off on them for watching his Games, and he probably would have if Effie hadn't warned him first.

Effie.

What the fuck was going on with them?

Thinking about it made him take another drink, and he saw the way Katniss' eyes narrowed.

He was supposed to be sober.

But then her eyes changed as something seemed to click, like she finally understood something.

Probably him.

Because in watching his Games, she and Peeta probably now understood that yes, he too was a Rebel, and probably knew better than anyone how they felt.

With a smirk still on his lips, Haymitch left them alone.

He finished drinking in his room for a few hours, glancing out the window every now and then.

He had another half hour or so before sunrise, so he staggered his way out of his room and into the living room.

The kids were gone, but they'd left their mess behind him. Videos of Games were everywhere, as were Peeta's notes.

Cursing them he sighed and started cleaning up after them, the same way they'd done for him over the past few months.

He was nearly finished when he grabbed the tape out of the VCR. He had tossed it in the box full of the other tapes when he noticed something.

He grabbed the tape back out of the box and stared at it. Then he looked at the other tapes in the box.

His was different.

Every other tape had the year of the Games and the winner of that Game typed out neatly.

His Game, however, was handwritten, the writing a dainty and feminine. It wasn't _her_ handwriting, but it was similar enough.

He felt the anger as realization hit him.

Effie Trinket owned a copy of his tape.

 **XxXxXx**

Her door being slammed woke her up. She gasped and sat up, allowing her eyes to get used to the dark.

She smelled him before he sat on the bed.

"Haymitch? What is it?" asked Effie.

"You own my Games," he responded.

"What?"

"You have a copy of them."

"Yes…?"

"How?"

"My parents had several copies of the Games." She sat up, smoothing out her hair. "They recorded them for as long as I remember. When I moved out I took yours with me."

He felt his blood run cold. "Why?"

"Why?" Effie thought about it, smiling slightly, though Haymitch couldn't see. "I was quite smitten with you, even then."

He turned and faced her, squinting at her.

"It's true. You're still handsome, you know, but back then you were quite the catch, and I was but a silly schoolgirl. My friends and I couldn't stop talking about you. I'll never forget when I saw your Interviews." Effie leaned back, making herself comfortable against her headboard as she remembered the details. "You were arrogant, even then," she said fondly. "I still remember my parents frowning at your answers, but I found you hilarious. I just remembered laughing and laughing. And by the time the Games had started, I was rooting for you. I just… saw something different in you, even then. I was _thrilled_ when you won, though my parents were stunned stupid. Who'd ever heard of a Victor from District 12? They were furious, but I was elated." Effie laughed, blushing slightly. "I actually convinced myself that now that you were famous, we would meet and we'd fall in love. I was a famous model, and you were a Victor. We'd be all the rage in the Capitol. You were very much my husband in my head."

Haymitch blinked rapidly at the absurdity coming out of Effie's mouth. "So what happened?"

"I met Caldwell Ivory when I was fifteen and no else in the world existed," said Effie seriously.

Haymitch wouldn't laugh, even as he felt his mouth turn up.

"Why'd you take my Games with you when you moved out?"

Effie sighed. "I don't know. I was growing up, moving out, and I had just gotten this Escorting job, not to mention my modeling career had taken off. Everything was happening so fast. I had made one last sweep of my parent's house, even going up to the attic to look around, and I came across your tape. You were such an intricate part of my childhood that I just couldn't imagine not having it. So I took it."

"So you… what? Stayed up and watched it on nights you were bored?"

Something about his tone had her back going up. "Wait, what?" She reached over and turned on her lamp to look at him, and frowned at the cold look on his face. "What are you talking about?"

"You just… what, put my Games on with your stupid little friends for entertainment?"

Effie paused, her heart sinking. "Are you drunk Haymitch? Is that why you're saying these things to me?"

"Answer the fucking question, Effie."

"I've only watched your Games twice, Haymitch," she responded coldly. "Once, live, when I was thirteen years old. I didn't watch your games until ten years later, when the Capitol aired it for your ten-year anniversary. I threw up for the rest of the night."

Haymitch paused. "Why should I believe you?"

Effie stared at him for several moments, and then sighed. "You shouldn't." Her eyes were cold, and there was a dark frown on her face.

"Didn't fucking think so." He tossed her the tape of his Games. "I hope you continue to enjoy it with your friends."

He ignored the hurt in her eyes as he left, slamming her door behind him. When he made it back to his room, finally ready to sleep, he did so with a guilty conscious and a heavy heart. It was better this way, he told himself. It was a perfect reminder that she was Capitol, and would never understand.


	22. Chapter 22

**Love this chapter too!**

CHATPER TWENTY-TWO

Words: 2,684

The next morning there was a soft knock on Effie's door. She had just straightened her wig so she left the mirror and walked to her door. She was pleasantly surprised to find Peeta in front of her. She quickly invited him in and he didn't make small talk.

"I want to talk to you about my gift. You mentioned a gold ankle band, but… I was wondering if I could request a locket, or medallion of sorts." Effie arched an eyebrow. "But I'd need a favor, and I'm hoping you have the right contacts to pull it off."

"Go on."

"I need a picture of Gale, Prim, and Mrs. Everdeen."

That certainly wasn't what she expected to hear.

"Whatever for?"

"I'm not as stupid as people think," Peeta said frankly. "And neither are you. I know there's something happening. There are Districts Uprising, and I know people are pissed that former Victors are going back into the Arena. Most importantly Haymitch is… different. Watching his Games kind of made things click into place. And he wouldn't care about you the way he does if you weren't knowledgeable." Effie tried not to roll her eyes at Haymitch's name. "There's too much going on out there, and it's because of Katniss. She wants to save me, but she'll need to be reminded about who and what she's fighting to live for. I trust you can pull this off."

Effie smiled and patted Peeta's knee. "I'll see what I can do."

The rest of the morning was a blur. Effie had decided that for once, she would be childish and ignore Haymitch for the most part. She couldn't deal with him. Pretty soon he'd know and have to accept that they were allies.

She did knock on his door and tell him that they were leaving in ten minutes, but she didn't go in or straighten his shirt or tie his tie.

She was _tired_ of the man in all honesty.

She saw Katniss and Peeta off, and then she made her way to the Capitol to mix and mingle, like Cinna had advised her to do. She only had a few minutes to do this before she made her way to their location.

She got stuck chatting with Dalia for a few moments, and therefore ran behind schedule. She couldn't afford to be late—she was Effie Trinket, she was never late. Still, rushing Dalia on would arouse suspicion, so she listened to the God-awful conversation about how it was too bad Haymitch hadn't been picked.

Effie had never been so relieved to leave.

 **XxXxXx**

"You two shouldn't be here," Plutarch said to Chaff and Seeder. "You should be being prepped."

"We weren't about to miss this meeting," said Chaff, and Seeder nodded. "Besides, who else is going to calm Haymitch down?"

"We're just waiting for one more person," Plutarch said to the rest of the group before him, silently flipping through Cinna's sketchbook of Katniss' suit. He stared into the faces of Haymitch, Cinna, and Portia. "She should be walking in any minute now."

At that moment a pink blur sped into the room. "I'm _so_ sorry I'm late, but I got stuck talking to—"

"What the _fuck_ is _she_ doing here?" The entire atmosphere of the room immediately changed. Effie stopped dead in her tracks and stared at Haymitch, as did everyone else.

"Why wouldn't she be here?" asked Plutarch calmly. He had already prepared himself for this mentally.

Fear gripped Haymitch from the top of his head down to the soles of his feet as he stared at Effie, gold Mockingjay wig still in place, pink suit blinding him.

Fear that quickly turned him defensive, and into anger.

"Why? _Why_? Maybe for the same reason no other Escort is here: she belongs to the Capitol!"

"Well… so do I," Plutarch reasoned.

"As do I," commented Cinna, and Haymitch's gray eyes focused on Cinna and his blood started to boil. They planned this. Everybody in here knew about Effie's involvement except him, and they had purposely withheld this information.

Were they _insane_?

"You two were strategically placed in the Capitol," he reminded Cinna and Plutarch. "But _her_?"

"The 'her' you're referring to is standing right in front of you," Effie said, her voice burning with rage.

Haymitch ignored her. "She shouldn't be here. She can't be here. She doesn't care—"

What she didn't care about was drowned out the minute Effie's hand connected with Haymitch's cheek. The impact of the hit damn near echoed around the room.

The silence that followed was magnified.

Haymitch stood there, shock clearly written all over his face, as his hand slowly traveled up to his reddened cheek. He hadn't even seen or heard her walk towards him. The two of them stared at each other, artic ice and hot coal.

Before Haymitch could say anything, Effie turned towards Cinna. "Maybe later," she said quietly, her voice shaking with hurt, "You and I can discuss what took place at this meeting. I will not stay where my presence is not wanted."

And with that, her heels clicking loudly against the floor, she made her exit.

Cinna turned cocoa colored eyes to Haymitch. "Can you excuse us for a moment?" Cinna asked the group. Then he jerked his head, motioning for Haymitch to follow.

Outside Cinna immediately rounded on Haymitch. "What the hell was that about? You were way out of line, Haymitch."

"Who _told_ her?"

"She didn't have to be _told_. She figured it out on her own." Haymitch stared skeptically at him and Cinna scowled. "Don't be mad at us because you've been too drunk for the past twenty years to get to know the real Effie Trinket. I spent but five minutes with her when I met her and could feel the sadness and hurt and regret pouring out of her."

Haymitch glared at Cinna, and looked ready to hit him, when Cinna said,

"You're not really all that surprised."

And that seemed to deflate everything out of Haymitch. "No." He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. "No I'm not."

"Then why the anger? You know she won't betray us. She hasn't yet."

"It's the yet part I'm worried about."

Now it was Cinna's turn to look skeptical.

"I can't believe she hit me."

Cinna smirked. "I can. You deserved it."

"Wipe that smirk off your face."

Cinna shook his head. "There are only two women in all of Panem who can get under your skin: Katniss Everdeen, whom I suspect you love like a daughter, and Effie Trinket, whom I suspect you love—"

"Don't say it," warned Haymitch.

"You know how she feels, Haymitch. _Everyone_ knows how she feels. She worships the ground you walk on, stepping on your sick in her heels."

"Only because I'm a former Victor." Saying it put a sour taste in his mouth, and Cinna frowned.

"You know damn well that's not true. You shouldn't think so lowly of yourself." Haymitch didn't respond, just looked away. Cinna paused for a few more seconds and then, ever so softly— "She's in love with you, Haymitch."

"Fuck it to shit, Cinna."

"Well it's true. And you can't look me in my face and tell me you don't feel something back for her. You can lie to yourself all you want to—you've been doing that for twenty-five years. Why do you fight it?"

And just like that the anger was back. "Because it's _unheard_ of, damn it! Who the fuck ever heard of an Escort and her _Mentor_? They sentence us to our deaths, Cinna! She… every fucking year."

"It kills her, Haymitch, the same way the bottle is killing you. And you know damn well they get stuck. Some of them don't get it, like the Escorts for the Careers. Some of them know the rules: don't get attached. But some of the Escorts from the lower Districts… they know they're trapped, and that's how they feel. They know there's no way out. They don't have people like you and me planning a Revolution under their noses. Effie does. You can't hate her if she's changed."

Haymitch shook his head. "The idea is fucking ridiculous. Do you know what people would say?"

"Since when do you give a fuck what people think?" Cinna paused, letting Haymitch know it wasn't a rhetorical question. When it was obvious Haymitch wasn't going to respond, Cinna continued. "You're a drunk, Haymitch. You make a fool out of yourself at nearly every occasion. And you're telling me that having feelings for Effie Trinket is what bothers you?"

"She's everything I despise about this place, Cinna. At least… she's fucking supposed to be."

Cinna paused for a long time, and then said quietly, "You know, once upon a time you and I wouldn't have been allowed to be in the same room. I wouldn't have been able to look at a woman like Effie, let alone dress her, or Katniss, or marry women like them."

"Oh, don't feed me no Civil Rights, Jim Crow Laws _bullshit_ , Cinna."

"All I'm saying, is in order for us to win the Civil Rights Movement, we had to join forces with the very people we thought we hated." He paused again. "I wonder who _this_ Revolution will bring together." Haymitch cursed and looked away. Cinna closed the small space between them. "If we're going to win this thing, we need people from the Capitol. We need the Plutarch's, and the Cinna's… and yes, we need the Effie's. If you ask me, we need all the help we can get. I know it's a lot to swallow. But even Malcolm X changed his tone after awhile. Effie is a friend of mine, and an intricate part of this Rebellion. You don't have to like it. But you'll respect it. And you owe her an apology."

With those words, Cinna walked back into the room.

Haymitch took a few seconds to calm himself and then walked back inside, immediately heading to the bar.

"Somebody should have fucking told me," he told the group when he realized they were all looking at him.

"She tried to tell you numerous times in her own way," reasoned Portia, and Haymitch scowled, because got damn it she was fucking right.

He took a long drink, trying to keep the fear at bay, because he wasn't stupid. The girl was walking around with a fucking Mockingjay wig on her hair, knowing what the symbol really meant.

Frowning at fucking Reapings and shit.

She was going to get herself killed.

And holy shit did the thought scare him.

When and how it had gotten to this point didn't matter, but fuck it all to hell if he wasn't pissed that he hadn't been _warned_. He didn't know he had to be worried about Effie too, damn it. Weren't Katniss and Peeta enough?

"If you care to join us, we can get this meeting started," Plutarch said.

Haymitch snarled. "Don't fucking take that tone with me. You looked me dead in my eye six months ago and told me I didn't have to worry about Effie Trinket."

"And I didn't lie. You don't have to worry about her. She's one of us."

Haymitch took another drink and walked towards the front of the room, standing against the wall.

He couldn't look at any of them at the moment.

"You might want to get another drink. You're definitely going to be pissed for a while."

"Why? What else haven't you told me?" asked Haymitch.

Plutarch stared at the other people in the room and then turned back to Haymitch. "I was the one who suggested to President Snow that we allow former Victors to be pooled back into the Arena."

Cinna's mouth sprung open and Portia gasped.

Seeder and Chaff didn't look at all surprised, which wasn't lost on Haymitch.

But he only had eyes for Plutarch.

"You son of a bitch," Haymitch snapped, and before he could think better of it, he'd walked up to Plutarch and hit him in the eye.

"Haymitch!" Chaff was next to him in a second, pulling him away.

"I deserved that," Plutarch said, holding his eye. "But I couldn't tell you in advance. It was too risky. Everybody's been watching 12 like a hawk. It was the only way, Haymitch. It's the only way we can get Katniss out alive."

"Of course it is," snapped out Haymitch. He'd put it all together in a matter of seconds.

It didn't stop the anger, though.

Haymitch grimaced at the pain in his knuckles. Shaking his head he started pacing.

This whole meeting was a fucking disaster.

After a few moments Haymitch turned back to Plutarch. "Start talking."

By the time the meeting was over Haymitch approached Cinna, who arched an eyebrow.

"I'll talk to Effie tonight," Haymitch said, and Cinna nodded. "You should get some ice on that eye, Plutarch," said Haymitch coldly, and he walked out of the room.

 **XxXxXx**

Effie had just missed the elevator with a naked Johanna, Katniss, and Peeta. Haymitch and a group of others, including Chaff and Seeder, made their way into another one.

She purposely missed that one.

When the elevator finally came back down quite a few moments had passed. She climbed on, a list of Sponsors in her hand, and made her way up to the 12th floor.

She was trying to figure out how she would give the list to Haymitch without actually having to see him when the elevator stopped on the 11th floor and the doors opened, forcing Effie to find Chaff laughing with—of course—none other than Haymitch Abernathy. Effie rolled her eyes, not even bothering to hide her displeasure, and Haymitch immediately stopped laughing.

Chaff looked like Christmas had come early.

"I didn't get a chance to speak earlier," he said, his eyes dancing with amusement, "but I must say, Ms. Trinket, you look better than ever." He grabbed her hand and kissed it.

Effie smiled. "Ever the charmer, Chaff, but you would really do much better for yourself if you kept better company."

Chaff burst out laughing and glanced at Haymitch. "I see your tongue is still as quick as your hand." Effie just smiled. "If you ever get tired of this old drunk, and if I survive the Arena, you should look me up."

"Fuck you, Chaff," Haymitch said, and Chaff laughed again. He winked at Effie, told Haymitch he'd see him later, and was gone.

Leaving Haymitch and Effie on the elevator together.

Alone.

He ignored her existence until the doors shut, and then, quick as lightening, he turned to her. "Your wig's crooked, Princess, let me help you fix it," and then he was turning her around, his hands pretending to straighten her wig, as his lips lingered near her ear.

Effie was about to tell him off when she felt the slightest pressure in her neck as he squeezed it.

"Shut up," he whispered furiously. "I don't have time to apologize for the asshole I've been for the past year, so I'll come to you room tonight and gravel at your fucking feet if I have to. But when these elevator doors open to our floor you better have a fucking smile on your face and you better be happy. And for fuck's sake get that got damn wig off your head before you piss me off and get yourself killed."

She hadn't known it was humanly possible to talk as fast as had. He had to have said all that in about ten seconds.

Then his hands were on her shoulders and he turned her around, staring at her. "Much better."

She blinked at him for several moments, their eyes locking, until the _ding_ sounded to let them know they'd reached their floor.

His hands lingered on her shoulder for a hair longer than necessary, and her eyes softened slightly.

They both got off the elevator looking pleased.

Until they got a good look at their Avoxes.


	23. Chapter 23

**FYI: Smut. The end.**

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Words: 2,5667

The minute Katniss knocked over the bowl of peas and ducked, Effie caught Haymitch's eyes. He had just told her who that Avox was, and she had told him that she hoped Katniss would keep her cool.

No such luck.

Haymitch was frozen, his spoon in midair from shock, before he masked the look and stared at her as if to say ' _Do something_.'

"That is not your job," is all she could think of, making sure to keep her voice stern. After a few seconds Katniss reappeared.

Between Haymitch and Katniss she was surely going to have a heart attack and die.

They all watched the recap of the Ceremonies, Effie purposely choosing to sit next to Cinna, and it was exhausting, really, having to watch people she somewhat knew and had talked to over the years.

By the time she reminded them all that they were going to have an early breakfast so they could discuss their training, she couldn't even find the strength to sound happy.

When Peeta and Katniss went off to bed Effie sighed and rested her head on Cinna's arm.

"I've missed you," he told her. Then he pinched her.

She yelped and scooted away from him. "What was that for?"

"Turning my dress into _butterflies_. Are you fucking _insane_?"

"Honestly, Cinna!" snapped Effie, standing up. "Between you and Haymitch I'm going to _lose_ it!" She pressed her hands to her eyes as she felt the headache coming. The headache she'd been trying to keep at bay all day.

"Effie you can't do shit like that," Cinna said fiercely, also standing. "We're not prepared to protect you, don't you see that?"

"I am _not_ a child that needs protecting," said Effie angrily.

"You can't handle the Capitol alone. None of us can. You are _not_ supposed to pledge your allegiance to us. If letting you in was never apart of the plan, then losing you certainly isn't either. Each of us are prepared to _die_ for this, Effie. You weren't apart of that preparation."

Effie sighed and walked towards the bar, passing Haymitch and Portia, who were watching this in complete silence.

She understood what he was saying. He'd messed up. He'd gotten close to her when he wasn't supposed to. They _were_ prepared to die for this. They'd been planning this for years, really. They probably took classes on how to not let people in. It was too risky.

Cinna came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. She leaned into his touch.

"I'm sorry, okay?"

"All of us in here care about you, Effie. We just want you to be safe. So get rid of the dress, and never wear that wig again. I'm surprised it's not on your head."

"Haymitch told me to change it already."

Cinna turned her around. "He's right."

Effie scowled. "That makes him right twice within a year's time. Ugh. I'm going to bed." She poured herself a drink as Cinna stood there watching, amused. She turned away from him. "Portia, maybe you can do my hair tomorrow. I don't think I really want to be with Cinna at the moment."

Cinna arched an eyebrow and Portia smiled, laughing softly. "He means well. He just gets angry when he's worried about someone he cares about. Kind of like someone else I know," Portia said pointedly, looking in Haymitch's direction.

Haymitch raised his glass to her, smirking, but didn't look in Effie's direction.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," said Effie. "Goodnight _Portia_ ," she said, and glass in hand, she stalked off to her room.

 **XxXxXx**

Effie slept with earplugs to drown out the sound of the radio. All of the rooms had the radio or TV blaring, if not both, to block out their conversations with each other.

So when Haymitch made his way to her room, she didn't hear him enter. She felt him when he sat down on her bed.

She groaned and slowly sat up, taking her earplugs out.

"What do you want, Haymitch?" she asked.

He didn't immediately answer. Instead he started rustling around. She thought he was heading towards her bar up until she heard a couple of thuds, then something metal being placed down on her nightstand.

Then he crawled in bed next to her, on top of the covers.

She lied absolutely still, flat on her back, buried under the covers, while he placed an arm under his head and stared up at the ceiling.

She didn't know how long they stayed like that, but it took him several moments to break the silence.

"Plutarch planned for former Victors to go back in the Arena," he finally said softly.

Effie gasped and sat up. " _What_?"

"Shhh," he murmured, and he reached out and pulled her back down. "Your radio isn't that loud, so we can't raise our voices."

"Then we should probably have this discussion tomorrow so I can scream. What the _hell_ , Haymitch?" said Effie in a strained whisper.

"I know. If it makes you feel any better I socked him in the eye."

Effie thought about it. "No. I'd like to hit him myself, then maybe I'd feel better."

Haymitch smiled at the ceiling. "You certainly do pack a pretty mean punch."

"I wish I could apologize for hitting you but… I wouldn't mean it if I did."

"I deserved it. I overreacted. I've suspect for quite some time now that you were involved. I just wish someone— _you_ —would have told me."

Effie stayed silent for a little while. "I wanted to but… you weren't ready."

"I wasn't ready today, either, but… I'm glad I know now."

She took a risk and turned to her side so that she could face him.

He remained lying on his back.

"Why would Plutarch risk sending you back in the Arena?"

"Most of the Victors are in on this Rebellion," Haymitch answered carefully. "I won't tell you who yet." She sucked in a breath. "I'm sorry, Effie," and he sounded like he truly meant it. "I can't tell you the whole plan. I can't. Cinna wouldn't have either, if that makes you feel better." It didn't, so she kept quiet. "Anyway, the plan is to get Katniss and Peeta out of that Arena alive."

"So… you knew?" She thought about how vulnerable she'd been with him the morning of the Reaping and felt her face flush with embarrassment.

"No. That's why I hit him. He didn't tell anyone from 12. He said we were all being watched too closely, which is true. But everyone else who's involved knew since the Quarter Quell."

She felt the pressure relax.

Then the anger returned. "But that was risky! What if they had picked Peeta's name?"

Haymitch shook his head. "Plutarch switched the envelope. Both names had my name on it. They knew—everybody knew—that Peeta would volunteer for me if my name was picked."

Effie turned back on her back, mimicking Haymitch and staring at the ceiling. "It's risky, Haymitch. Both of our Victors are going back into that Arena in a few days time and there's absolutely no reason to get my hopes up that both of them will come out alive _twice_."

"I know."

Effie paused. "You all chose Katniss as your Mockingjay."

"Yes."

"So if anyone dies…."

"It'll be Peeta." Effie felt the tears, and Haymitch said, "The Allies know not to touch him, Effie."

"It's not them I'm worried about," she snapped out. "It's the Careers, who I _know_ aren't in on this, and whatever the hell that Arena has planned for them. And Plutarch is going to have to make some close calls, as he can't look like he's favoring Katniss and Peeta."

"Princess," said Haymitch, finally turning towards her, but she kept her body towards he ceiling, up until he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her towards him. "I know it sucks, but it's the best we can do. We're gonna do the best we can to make sure both of them come out of the Arena alive. I promise. I know it's asking a lot, but can you please just trust me?"

Effie looked at Haymitch, really looked at him, and boldly reached out and moved his hair away from his eyes so she could look into them.

"It's honestly not asking all that much for me to trust you, Haymitch," she told him gently. "It's not that difficult at all."

He blinked as he thought about Cinna's words a few months ago: _I don't hold a candle to you in her eyes_ , Cinna had told him.

Then Cinna's voice rang out again, this time, his words from tonight: _We're all prepared to die for this. You weren't apart of that preparation_.

So when her lips found their way to his, one hand on his cheek, it was almost easy for him to jerk back.

"Don't," he told her.

She sighed softly, but kept her hands on his cheek, her thumb caressing his stubble.

He suppressed a shiver, and stiffened when he felt himself hardening.

He couldn't. Not with Effie.

"Haymitch?" He didn't answer as he noted her coming forward. "I'm not that Effie," she whispered against his lips.

Fuck her for knowing him, and fuck his body for betraying him and acting on its own accord.

And then her lips were back on his, and he didn't jerk back this time.

She deepened the kiss, and she tasted like strength, and beauty, and _rebellion_ , and holy fucking shit how could anybody even smell that good just going to bed?

The scent of cherry blossoms made him moan aloud, and that seemed invitation enough for Effie. She smoothly slithered her tongue into his mouth and he allowed her access, every warning telling him that this was wrong, that this was dangerous, out of the window.

His body still having a mind of his own, he gripped her hips and forced her on her back, the two of them never breaking apart until she gasped with pleasure, her body arching off of the bed as he snaked his hands up her body.

She had already pushed her nightgown up.

He couldn't see much, not in the dark, but his hands worked just fine, he realized, and he felt like he'd won a prize, to be able to touch this exquisite beauty and her soft, supple skin, even with his rough, calloused hands.

"Take this damned thing _off_ ," she muttered in regards to her nightdress, and Haymitch slid his hands back down her body and then made his way up to her neck to untie the nightgown at her neck, his hands shaking.

When the straps came loose in his hands he stopped and looked at her.

She stared back with heavily lidded eyes.

"Effie, are—"

"Haymitch, you haven't been noble since the day I met you. Please don't start now."

He smirked and she pushed him away in order to slither out of her nightdress and underwear. Then her lips were on his again as her fingers unbuttoned his shirt.

"Effie," he whispered against her lips, startled at how quickly her hands were making work of his buttons, "I don't have… I mean I haven't… it's been years," he stuttered out.

"Then we should make tonight count," she said huskily, and then his shirt was off, and she was pulling his undershirt over his head.

His hands weren't working properly as he tried to undo his pants, and taking pity on him, she removed his hands and did it herself.

He got one pants leg off before she was pulling him back on top of him.

She hissed when his tongue found her way to her nipple. Her nubs hardened as he fondled one and sucked on the other, and for the first time in years he felt fully in power.

Effie Trinket, control freak extraordinaire, was out of control because of him.

She actually whimpered when his lips found her neck.

The moment he entered her, with the way they both gasped, moaned, and sighed, both of their bodies stilling as they enjoyed the feel of the other, he knew that this was months in the making, years, really, and how stupid was he to have ignored it for as long as he had?

He took a minute and went slow, painstakingly slow, as to not hurt her, because she was tight, so tight, and warm, and wet, and wonderful, and it'd been twenty-five years since he'd done this with anyone, and he was pretty sure if he didn't take it slow he'd last all of three seconds.

And then she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist and he saw stars.

He groaned and closed his eyes, burying his face in her neck, and started rocking his hips faster.

He couldn't stop the thrill from shooting up his spine at the noises she was making.

Making because of him.

Her nails dug into his back as she started to meet his thrusts with demanding ones of her own. Pretty soon their bodies were slapping against the other's, almost competing for dominance. He stopped caring about the sounds coming out of his mouth—they weren't human, and started focusing on the noises Effie was making, and the way her body was responding.

She arched her back, her nails digging into his flesh, and softly called out his name.

Jesus, he'd never heard someone say his name like that.

It made him shiver, and actually look at her.

Her face was flushed prettily, her eyes glowing the color of the ocean.

His eyes burned black, smoldering ash.

She leaned up and kissed him as his strokes deepened, and she gently bit his lip and cried out.

He nearly lost it.

He placed his hand against the headboard as he sped up, because even in this amount of pleasure he was still thinking like a Rebel, and even President Snow would be able to determine what they were doing if he heard the headboard banging against the wall.

Plus he didn't want the kids to hear.

Or Cinna for that matter.

Couldn't give him the satisfaction.

Those thoughts entered in his head in all of three seconds, and then there was only Effie again, just Effie, as he stared into those blue eyes, blue eyes starting to burn navy as she cried out a little harder, arched her back a little higher, moaned his name a little more quickly.

And then, the most beautiful sound ever, a little whimper, as she came undone in his arms, his name on her luscious lips, and he watched her, transfixed at how beautiful she was when she came.

He could watch her do that forever.

Feeling her clench around him was more than he could take, and he choked out her name as he spilled himself into her, almost violently.

He willed himself to stay silent as the pleasure took over, but he had to silence Effie with a kiss as the pleasure consumed her.

It took them both several moments to still. Effie seemed willing to take every drop, and Haymitch was more than willing to give her every drop.

After several moments he slowly slid out of her, his breathing rugged, his heart pounding.

"Trinket, what the fuck did we just do?"


	24. Chapter 24

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Words: 2,448

Haymitch lied on his back as what they just did hit him.

Effie sighed and copied him, lying on her back. "I'm pretty sure we just slept together, Haymitch."

She said it so seriously that Haymitch snorted.

"Fuck you, Effie," he said without heat.

"Darling, I'm pretty sure it's too late for that."

He chuckled and then sobered up real quickly. "I need a fucking drink."

"Was it that bad?" asked Effie softly.

He took a couple of seconds to think about it, though he already knew the answer. Then he reached out and tentatively touched her, caressing her arm. "No, Princess, it wasn't bad at all."

He watched her as she slept, his undershirt covering her small frame.

And he hated himself.

He practically just ensured her death. And for what? For a few moments of pleasure? No matter how fucking pleasurable they were.

And they certainly _were_ pleasurable.

Almost worth it.

Like if she survived, and remained unharmed, it was totally worth it, but if anything happened to her….

But nothing should. According to Cinna and Plutarch, Effie had done an okay job of convincing Snow she wasn't really apart of their scheme, though they hadn't heard anything since the Reaping.

She sighed, and shifted in her sleep, and Haymitch's breath caught in her throat, because damn it to hell she was even beautiful while she slept.

He sat up, just watching her, sipping a glass of wine, having long ago put his pants back on. His button-up was on, but still unbuttoned, his sleeves rolled up.

When the sun started to rise he finally got up, sitting his warm glass down on her nightstand and grabbing his knife off of it. He was just rising out of bed when he felt Effie grab his arm.

"Stay," she said quietly.

"Effie…." She must not have liked what he was going to say because with surprising strength she pulled him back down and he toppled onto the bed.

Somehow his arms found her way around her tiny waist, after discarding his knife.

"I don't want the kids to find us," he murmured, his voice low against her ear.

"What kids?" she whispered back.

When he entered her again it was slower, and gentler, and Haymitch surprised himself with his ability to still be gentle.

She sighed softly in his ear and he grunted out her name.

She had the uncanny ability to make him feel pleasure he didn't know was possible.

His stubble tickled her cheek as he buried his face in her neck, a place he realized he was quite fond of.

She shivered and came, but this time he was prepared, having heard that delicious whimper.

She kissed him, his eyelids, his cheeks, his lips, his chin.

Jesus she was going to kill him.

He shocked himself when he moaned, allowing himself to cum when she did.

"You should get some sleep," she said, snuggling into him.

"Am I excused from breakfast?" yawned Haymitch.

"Well you've had a busy night, so I guess," she said with a smirk. "I suppose I should get up and get ready."

He tightened his grip on her. "Stay," he commanded.

And she did, for another hour, while he slept, snoring softly. Then she slid away from him and showered. Afterwards she applied her makeup. She grabbed her Mockingjay wig, wishing she could put it on.

"Don't you dare," said Haymitch.

"I wasn't," Effie said softly. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

"I was never really that sleep." He sat up. "What time is it?"

"Early enough for you to sneak into your room before I wake up Katniss and Peeta."

He nodded. "You should burn that wig."

Effie sighed. "Do you think Katniss knows her pin is the same pin Maysilee used?"

He sucked in a harsh breath and looked at Effie. "How'd you know about that?"

"I own an original copy of your Games, Haymitch, remember? They blocked out the symbol in the later showings, but I remember it. I loved the little bird. I knew exactly what it was when Katniss wore it."

Haymitch sat up. "It doesn't really matter if she knows or not. As long as it gives Katniss better luck than it did Masilee."

"Well I'll certainly drink to that," Effie said.

Haymitch left a moment later and Effie headed off to wake up Katniss and Peeta.

She made her way to breakfast, snacking on strawberries and blueberries.

Haymitch made an appearance before Katniss or Peeta, showered and dressed, and he walked right up to her and slammed down a gift box.

"I'm not wearing this," he told her.

She looked up at him, an eyebrow arched. "Oh really?"

"It's girly."

"Well if you'd had an input like Peeta, I could have gotten you what you wanted."

Haymitch scowled and reopened the box, glaring at the bangle as if it had done him a great offense.

"It's dangerous, Effie," he finally said.

Effie rolled her eyes. "I'm not asking you to parade around Panem, telling all of the Capitol that it's your token in support of Kantiss Everdeen, current face of the Rebellion."

He scowled at her and was about to argue but she stood up.

"Put the damn bracelet on and stop arguing. We both know you're going to wear it. I have to go pick up Peeta's gift. Can you try and find out where the hell your Tributes are? I woke them over an hour ago." She smoothed out her dress. "Training starts at ten. I'll trust you to get them there _on time_."

Then she buttoned up his top button, moved his hair out of his eye, and left the Training Center.

 **XxXxXx**

Before dinner Effie made her way to Peeta's room. After knocking softly, and being told to come in, Effie stepped inside.

"You work fast," Peeta said with a smile once she handed him his medallion.

"Well, I try," said Effie modestly.

"Can you do me a favor and keep this between us? I don't want Katniss to know yet."

"Of course. Dinner will be ready shortly. Don't be late, okay?"

In the dining room Effie made her way over to Haymitch. "I just left Peeta's room. I don't know what happened today, but…."

"I don't know either. Plutarch and I aren't exactly on speaking terms at the moment, and even if we were, we wouldn't have had time to meet."

Effie sighed, frowning. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"Just act your part. I'll ask all the questions." He placed a gentle hand on her hips, just briefly, enough to steady her, and she noticed the bangle on his arm. And then they moved away from each other, missing the look shared between Cinna and Portia at their transaction.

They all sat in silence around the table up until the soup was poured, where Haymitch immediately asked the million-dollar question.

Katniss and Peeta both looked reluctant to answer, and they took turns sharing worried looks. Finally Katniss helped Peeta out.

"You painted something, didn't you?" asked Katniss. "A picture." She went on to explain how the Gamemakers had gone through such trouble to cover it, and Effie reminded them, trying to sound unconcerned, that that was standard.

"What did you paint Peeta?" Effie tried to keep the hysteria out of her voice. "Was it a picture of Katniss?" _Please be a picture of Katniss_ , she thought, and then she explained to Katniss about why it would be logical.

Please let Peeta be logical.

"Actually, I painted a picture of Rue," Peeta said. "How she looked after Katniss had covered her in flowers."

Effie froze and noticed Cinna stiffen at the news.

"And what exactly were you trying to accomplish?" Haymitch asked in a very measured voice.

"I'm not sure. I just wanted to hold them accountable, if only for a moment," said Peeta. "For killing that little girl."

Effie felt like she would pass out any minute.

Oh no. No, no, no, no.

"This is dreadful," Effie said before she could think about it. "That sort of thinking is forbidden, Peeta. Absolutely. You'll only bring down more trouble on yourself, and Katniss."

"I have to agree with Effie on this one," said Haymitch, and Effie doubted anyone else could hear the slight panic in his voice.

Cinna and Portia looked stricken.

And then—

"I guess this is a bad time to mention I hung a dummy and painted Seneca Crane's name on it," Katniss said.

Disbelief. The entire table was stunned.

"You... hung… Seneca Crane?" Cinna asked.

"Oh, Katniss." Effie felt the tears coming. "How do you even know about that?"

"Is it a secret? President Snow didn't act like it was. In fact he seemed eager for me to know."

That seemed to be the last straw. She finally lost it. Pressing a napkin to her face Effie left the table and ran from the room.

She joined them again when they waited for their revealing of their scores, her eyes bloodshot.

Her stomach dropped when she saw they both scored twelve.

"Why would they do that?" asked Katniss.

"So that the others will have no choice but to target you," and Effie heard the rage in Haymitch's voice. "Go to bed. I can't stand to look at either one of you."

When they were out of sight Haymitch went to the bar and poured himself a double shot.

"Maybe we should have told them," Portia said.

Haymitch threw back another drink.

"I have to go and meet with Chaff. He has to get the word out to the others to protect them at all costs. The Careers will be gunning for them. Chaff is going to lose his life for a pair of the most arrogant, ungrateful, unworthy Tributes I have _ever_ known." He took another drink and then left without so much as a backwards glance.

 **XxXxXx**

A loud thump and a curse woke Effie up. She had fallen asleep on the couch, waiting for Haymitch.

She blinked and sat up, noting the sunlight pouring through the window.

She got off the couch and walked towards the door when she heard a moan. She crouched down when she found Haymitch on the floor, having clearly tripped over the table next to the door.

"Haymitch?" she said gently, touching him.

He grabbed her, pulling her down to him. "I'm not really drunk," he whispered in her ear, and though his words weren't slurred, his breath definitely smelled like alcohol. "Just help me to my room. I'll explain there."

"Come on Haymitch," said Effie loudly. "Let's get you to bed."

They made a show of him getting up and leaning on her and them slowly walking to his room.

Once inside he immediately dropped the act and turned to her, his breath tickling her ear. "Beetee thinks there are cameras in the main rooms in the Penthouse, though he believes the rooms are safe. He found three cameras in his suite."

Effie stiffened and looked at him. "Beetee?"

Haymitch opened his mouth and then shut it abruptly. "I think I may have had more to drink than I thought."

He stepped away from her and started undressing, first taking out his knife. She also noticed the gold bangle was gone.

"You look like shit," he told her.

"Well I was up tossing and turning half the night waiting on you to get back," said Effie coolly. "Not to mention I had nearly a million nightmares."

He arched an eyebrow. "Oh. About Seneca?"

She stared at Haymitch. "Oh… my… God. Are you _jealous_?"

He scoffed but didn't answer the question, just continued taking off his clothes. She watched as he pulled his tie off of him, throwing it a little too harshly across the room. He unbuttoned his shirt with a little more annoyance than necessary. When he only had his pants left he walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower.

She noticed how he kept his scowl firmly in place.

She smirked when he slammed the door in her face, and made her way to her own room.

About twenty minutes later Haymitch walked into her room. "I thought you'd join me in the shower."

He leaned against the door, his hair still damp, his five o'clock shadow more pronounced than ever as he stared at her, her radio louder than it had been the night before.

"I thought you wanted more time to sulk about Seneca and I." Effie stared at him through her vanity mirror.

"You were the one who ran off crying about his death," Haymitch said.

"Is that what you think? That I ran off crying because of Seneca?" She turned around to face him. "You think I'm worried about a man who's already _dead_? I was worried about Katniss and Peeta!"

She scowled at him and he walked up to her, his eyes flashing.

She kept her ground, and the two of them stared at each other.

Then he sighed and cupped her cheeks. "I'm not mad at you," he said. "I'm still mad at Katniss and Peeta. I had to go downstairs and tell my best friend to please give up his life for two of the most idiotic people I've ever known."

"Haymitch…." She pulled him to her and softly kissed his lips.

Then she was against the wall, and his hands were everywhere, and one minute she had clothes on, and the next they were off. He was so hard, unbelievably hard, and so strong and muscular, so picking her up and taking her against the wall seemed so easy. He entered her swiftly and surely, groaning the minute he did so. Their hips rocked together as moans escaped from their mouths. She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist as she clung to his back, digging her nails into his flesh and moving against him as the pleasure took over. She buried her face in his neck, chanting his name over and over again.

"Effie," he whispered, and even with the shower she could still smell the alcohol on his breath.

When he kissed her she could taste it.

It was so unbelievably Haymitch that it made her cum.

He followed closely behind.

Afterwards they slithered to the floor, breathing hard.

"I say we give them the day off," Effie breathed.

"Fine with me. I'm not really in the mood to see them."

"But what would we do?" asked Effie.

Haymitch traced Effie's body with his finger, from her neck down to her belly button. "I can think of a few things."

"I'll write a note to an Avox," she said.


	25. Chapter 25

**HAPPY THANKSGIVING! I'm posting early =)**

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Words: 2,628

Effie and Haymitch acted foolishly, and spent their day together, getting to know one another.

Bodies included.

For most of the day they forgot who they were. She was no longer Effie Trinket, Escort, and he was no longer Haymitch Abernathy, Victor and Mentor. They were just two normal people, enjoying each other's company, eating, drinking, and being merry.

Haymitch got her wasted. Completely and totally wasted.

She learned that she was definitely a horny drunk, and couldn't keep herself off of Haymitch.

It was all fun and games until she spent an hour throwing up, Haymitch laughing hysterically.

She didn't find it amusing.

He let her sleep off her hangover and finally decided to shower and get dressed. He snuck out of her room and made his way to his own, feeling better than he ever had.

Until he got a soft knock on his door after his shower.

Cinna.

"There's something you should know," Cinna said once Haymitch was dressed. "Snow wants Katniss to wear the wedding dress that was voted on."

Haymitch cursed softly. "You've got to be shitting me."

"I wish." He paused for a moment. "I'm going to alter it."

Haymitch stared at Cinna. "Alter it… how."

"I'm not going to say," Cinna said, and Haymitch felt his heart sink.

"Cinna…."

"Don't tell Effie anything. We need her reaction to be real. I know you know how to play the game. I'm not worried about you."

"What the hell are you going to do?" Cinna didn't answer. "Don't do anything to get yourself killed, Cinna."

Cinna smiled sadly. "Haymitch, haven't you figured it out by now?"

"Figured what out by now?"

Cinna held Haymitch's gaze. "I was never supposed to make it to 13."

Haymitch felt his throat go dry.

"I was never supposed to leave this Rebellion alive."

 **XxXxXx**

Haymitch wasn't sure how he was about to go back and spend more time with Effie and act like he wasn't affected and disturbed by what Cinna had just told him. Effie knew him, knew him down to his soul, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out how.

Still, not showing up would arouse more suspicion, so after an hour of stalling he made his way back to Effie's.

He heard the shower running and smiled wickedly.

He undressed, not caring that he'd showered only a couple of hours before, and made his way into her bathroom.

She gasped when he wrapped her arms around her, pulling her against him. She turned around, smiling, her eyes glistening. "You're going to make us late for dinner."

"Rather have dessert," he told her.

"The kids'll miss us."

"Still don't want to see them."

She wrapped her arms around his neck as he kissed her.

Escaping.

Why did it take them so long to do this? He could have been escaping for years. Who needed alcohol when there could have been _this_?

This meant there was no death.

No hurt.

No sadness.

No Rebellion.

No Katniss.

No Peeta.

No Cinna.

There was just Effie.

There was always just Effie.

He nipped at her neck for several moments and then his lips traveled to her collarbone, and then down, down, down, until he was on his knees and her leg was over his shoulder.

She gripped his hair to balance herself once the orgasm hit her.

He rose, breathing heavily. "Still wanna make dinner?"

It was the last thing he was able to say, other than Effie's name, when she went down and returned the favor.

Effie Trinket had a filthy mouth.

They didn't make dinner, but as no one came and checked on them, Haymitch felt it was safe to assume no one else had either.

 **XxXxXx**

In retrospect he never should have stayed the night that night. Had he been thinking, he'd have left her room after she'd fallen asleep, and made his way to his own room. That would have been smart.

But as brilliant as he was, he was bound to have stupid moments every now and then.

And this would take the cake.

He'd suppressed what Cinna told him for several hours, _and_ he hadn't really drank, _and_ he wore himself out with Effie.

For fuck's sake of _course_ he was exhausted. Mentally and physically.

So why he thought he'd be able to stay up until sunrise was beyond him, especially since he was working on, what, five, six hours of sleep total for the past three days?

He should have prepared himself. It was stupid, foolish, and naïve to think that just because he and Effie spent a day pretending that they lived a normal life, that everything in the world was okay.

It wasn't okay.

He was Haymitch Abernathy, and nothing ever went right for him.

Thinking about it, he shouldn't have all been surprised.

Her nightmares, mixed with what Cinna had told him, should have affected him.

He never should have fallen asleep, damn it.

He was already dreaming when she started.

It was vague, hazy even. Something about Effie and him at the edge of the Arena of the 50th Hunger Game, in Katniss' wedding dress, bright red blood, turning black as the oxygen hit it, staining the wedding dress.

Enobaria had just ripped out Effie's throat.

Haymitch and Cinna had both ran to her.

President Snow threw Finnick's trident at Cinna, slicing the designer, and shot a bow and arrow straight through Haymitch, and into Katniss as well.

All three of them fell dead, and maybe Haymitch would have woken up, except Effie was having her own nightmare.

It must have been horrible, too, because she kicked him, and that's all it took.

He rolled on top of her, snatching the knife off of her night table, and had it had her throat.

"Haymitch!" she screamed, but calling his name wouldn't change anything.

"Shut the fuck up," growled Haymitch, his hands digging into her arm. He was looking at her but he wasn't really seeing her.

He didn't know who he was seeing.

"Haymitch," she whispered.

"Didn't I say to shut up? I will kill you. Who are you with?"

"Haymitch!"

"Which one of you killed Maysilee?"

Effie gasped, immediately understanding.

"Oh my God." She could feel the tears threatening to spill.

"I asked you a question!"

"It wasn't me," she moaned as he pressed the knife into her neck. She slowly reached for something—anything—on her night table, and she felt something square.

The radio.

She grabbed it and swung it, hitting Haymitch on the head.

He cursed and she scrambled out of bed, quick as lightening, and ran for her life as she heard him get up. She opened the door and bumped into—

"Cinna!" she gasped.

"What's going on? I was walking to the bar and I heard—"

"It's Haymitch. He's having a nightmare."

Cinna brushed passed her and found Haymitch, slashing the air with his knife.

"Haymitch," Cinna said, slowly walking towards him. Haymitch charged him and Cinna sidestepped him, grabbing Haymitch's arm and twisting it. He grabbed the knife, threw it across the room, and pinned Haymitch to the wall. "Wake the fuck _up_."

Cinna slapped Haymitch several times, only stopping when Haymitch eye's cleared.

Haymitch gasped and started clawing at Cinna.

"Stop. _Stop_. You were dreaming, Haymitch." At the word 'dreaming' Haymitch stilled, looking around wildly. "Relax and breathe. You're in Effie's room, remember? You're in the Training Center."

And suddenly he did remember.

"Effie?"

He immediately turned towards the door, where he saw Effie, in the hallway, in nothing but his shirt, a small cut on her neck.

Blood was trickling down, and she looked terrified.

He pushed Cinna away and ran to her bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before throwing up everything he'd ever eaten in his entire life.

He felt the light touch and stiffened, but before he could say anything he emptied everything he had ever drank in his life.

"Haymitch," whispered Effie, and he held up his hand.

"Cinna," was all he was able to get out.

Cinna crouched down to help him up and the two of them slowly made their way out of Effie's room, Effie close behind them. Cinna gave her a look that had her faltering.

"Give him some time," he whispered, and then the two of them were off, headed towards Haymitch's room.

She spent several minutes pacing in her room. She knew him. He'd want and need to come to her.

She also knew he'd probably never forgive himself.

She was genuinely torn between marching into his room or just waiting for him to approach her.

After about half an hour Cinna came to her room, turning on her light, his eyes blazing.

"Are you okay?" he asked, investigating her neck.

"I'm fine," snapped Effie. "How's Haymitch? Can I see him?"

Cinna hesitated. "I think he needs to be alone right now."

She watched as Cinna avoided her gaze. "Needs? Or wants?"

"He's sick, Effie. Utterly destroyed at what he did."

"It wasn't _him_. I mean… it was but…." Effie started to pace. "I know he didn't mean it." She stopped and faced Cinna. "I need to see him."

"I think it'll do more harm than good."

Effie's eyes welled with tears. "He needs me."

"He doesn't know it yet. Now come here and let me look at you." Effie didn't move so he walked up to her, manipulating her neck so that he could get a good look at the cut. "It needs to be cleaned."

The rest of it was a blur.

All she remembered was crying herself to sleep.

 **XxXxXx**

She let Octavia wake up Katniss and Peeta having got a late start. She tossed and turned all night and didn't sleep until well after sunrise, causing her to wake up late. She showered and put on her makeup and wig, and then picked something that would cover her neck.

When she made her way to the living room she found Haymitch and Cinna whispering near the table, Haymitch seated, Cinna standing.

They both stopped when they saw her.

"I have to go." Cinna had a bag in his hand, presumably holding a dress. "Good morning, Effie."

She stared at him for several moments, and when he looked away, her heart started pounding. "Cinna?"

"I'll see you later. Both of you."

And then he was gone.

"What is he not telling me?"

Haymitch didn't look at her. He just stood up, slowly, meticulously, and made his way towards the door.

"Are you going to act like I don't exist?"

Nothing.

He reached the door and Effie snapped out, "If you think you've ever felt my wrath before, walk out the door without saying a word to me."

Haymitch stopped, his hand on the doorknob, his breathing labored.

She walked towards him, noting the way his body stiffened when she approached him.

"Look at me Haymitch."

"Leave me alone, Trinket," he said coldly.

Effie scowled. "Would it be easier if I hated you?" asked Effie casually.

"Yes."

"You want me to be afraid of you?"

"You should be."

"Well that's just too bad."

He turned to her then, and Effie realized how much of a toll last night had taken on him. His eyes were haunted, bags under them. "This isn't a fucking game, Effie. I could have _killed_ you last night, don't you get it? How could I live with myself if I ever did such a thing?"

"You think you're the only one who gets nightmares?"

"No, I'm just the only one too stupid to not be able to wake up from them."

"So—"

"So nothing. This isn't logical. We were a mistake. It won't happen again."

Effie glared at Haymitch. "If you think you can push me away, because you think I'm supposed to be afraid of you, you have another thing coming, Mr. Abernathy." She reached behind her back and placed his knife on the table, never taking her eyes of him. "I believe this belongs to you."

Effie left then, slamming the door behind her.

 **XxXxXx**

Effie didn't see Haymitch again for the rest of the day until it was nearly time for the Interviews.

He was with Portia and Peeta.

Peeta, who's in a traditional wedding tuxedo for the Capitol, down to the white gloves.

She stopped abruptly, her eyes automatically going to Haymitch.

He saw the warning in his eyes.

She walked onto the elevator and they made their way downstairs to wait for Katniss.

Who, of course, showed up in a wedding dress.

Effie thought she might throw up.

She and Haymitch made their way to the same suite they were in last year, both acting as if the other didn't exist.

Or like high school kids.

Whatever.

When the Interviews started Effie braced herself.

"Fucking Careers," muttered Haymitch, more so to himself than Effie.

"Finnick disgusts me," Effie said aloud as the girls swooned and fainted over his poem.

Haymitch looked at her. "What, not your type?"

She spared him a glance. "No," she said coldly. "For some reason I seem to be into the drunk assholes." She walked away from him and headed towards the bar.

"I take it that's an upgrade from a dead Gamekeeper."

Effie spun around. "Yes. Chaff always was ten times the man Seneca ever was."

That shut Haymitch up, and she turned back around, satisfied.

They fell into silence again when Effie stood next to him as the rest of the Tributes spoke.

After Beetee said his piece, Effie said, "Beetee… he won his Games by outsmarting everyone, right?"

"You could say that about any of the Victors," and Haymitch shot her a look, as to remind her that they were not protected here.

And then Katniss stepped forward and all hell broke loose the minute she pressed that button.

Haymitch closed his eyes. "Ah, fuck," he said softly.

Effie gasped, walking towards the TV, both hands over her mouth, her eyes wide and filled with tears.

"It's a Mockingjay," Katniss said, and then Cinna's face was all over the screen.

"Cinna," whispered Effie, and then she turned around, visibly pale.

She sees it in Haymitch's eyes. This won't be fixed.

It can't be.

Before Effie could even process what just happen, Peeta delivers another bombshell.

The only reason she knows it's a lie is because the wedding itself was a lie.

Still, she gripped Haymitch's shoulder, nails digging into flesh, at the admission.

"Holy shit," Haymitch said.

They watch in a stunned silence as the crowd erupts, anger evident, crying about the injustice of it all.

Their screen goes black when all the Tributes hold hands.

Haymitch removed her hand from his arm and turned to her. "I—"

At that moment Peacekeepers burst in. Effie screamed and Haymitch instinctively stepped in front of her.

"Effie Trinket, I need you to come with us."

" _What_?"

"You're going home."

"Home?"

"Yes," the Peacekeeper said coldly. He then turned to Haymitch. "You should go and get your Tributes. I suggest you hurry. Everyone is to be in doors in thirty minutes." He turned back to Effie. "Ms. Trinket, if you please."

Haymitch stepped to the Peacekeeper. "She better be at Headquarters tomorrow, or so help me God even your fucking President won't stop me from tearing down all of Panem to find her."

"She is of no concern to me, as long as she follows orders," the Peacekeeper said. "It's your Mockingjay you should be worried about," he finished coldly.

With that he left with Effie.

Haymitch took a deep breath, taking a couple of shots, before he made his way downstairs to collect Katniss and Peeta.

If Cinna wasn't already dead, he'd kill him.


	26. Chapter 26

**SO WARNING/SPOILER ALERT, WE LOSE CINNA IN THIS CHAPTER. This will be the last time he's mentioned.**

 **I. Am. BROKEN. I fell even MORE in love with Cinna while writing this story, AND Lenny Kravitz too. Like literally the two are on in the same in my mind. Like Lenny Kravitz is just Cinna's alter ego LOL. DON'T JUDGE ME.**

 **I just love me some Lenny Kravitz, and the fact that he played Cinna makes this chapter so much harder LOL. Don't worry, I don't show his death, just allude to it. I couldn't bare the thought of actually writing it.**

 **Like not ever.**

 **Anyway, let me know if you all feel as sorrowful as I do.**

 **The feels!**

 **-thamockingjayandpeeta**

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Words: 2,377

Effie was driven to her house, which was only about ten minutes away from the Training Center, but with all the people, it took a good hour to get home.

She remained calm on the outside, but inside all she could think about was Cinna.

He would surely be killed.

And what was worse is she couldn't even cry. As far as she knew, her house was still bugged.

She sat there in complete silence. The Peacekeepers ignored her, and she ignored them.

The silence allowed her to think.

By the time they arrived at her front doorstep, she had formed a plan.

She had no clue if it'd work. If they knew where she lived without having to tell them, because they certainly hadn't asked, they might win after all.

But hopefully not.

She had to try.

She opened the door to the car and walked out. Closing the door behind her she made her way up her front steps and reached her door. She immediately started fumbling around in her purse, her heart hammering as the car didn't pull off.

After several moments a Peacekeeper got out.

"What's the delay?" he asked.

"I can't find my keys. I must have left them at the Training Center."

She held her breath for several moments. Then the Peacekeeper snatched her purse, looking inside of it. When he realized she was telling the truth, he thrust her purse back into her arms.

"Wait here."

Effie waited for a few moments while the Peacekeeper talked to the driver. Then he motioned for her to get back in the car.

"It's late. We'll drive you back to the Training Center, where you'll be allowed to stay the night."

Effie nodded and got back in the car, trying to hide her relief.

When they arrived back at the Training Center, she started to get out when another Peacekeeper grabbed her roughly around the arm.

"You need to remember where your loyalties lie, Effie," and Effie recognized the voice of the man she dated so many years ago. "Tread carefully. You're skating on thin ice."

His voice was cold, and warning her.

"My loyalties always have been and always will be to the Capitol," she lied smoothly.

"Then I suggest you start keeping better company." He reached into his pocket and tossed her a picture of her and Cinna at lunch from a few months ago, and then a more recent one of her and Haymitch in 12, during the Reaping.

"I had no idea Cinna would do what he did tonight. As far as Haymitch, he's nothing more than a drunken fool. You're wasting your time with me." She tossed the pictures back to him and slammed the car door. She walked towards the Training Center and headed up to her floor.

Inside she found Cinna, Portia, and Haymitch sitting around the living room.

Cinna saw her first.

"Effie."

At the sound of her name Haymitch's head whipped around.

"What the fuck?"

"What are you doing here? All the Escorts were sent home," Portia said.

"I told them I forgot my house key. Which," she said, rummaging around in the bowl on the table, "I did." She held up her keys.

"You keep a spare key under the plant of your front window," Cinna said.

"Well _I_ know that, but they didn't."

She put down her clutch and walked towards them.

"That was dangerous, Effie," said Cinna.

She arched an eyebrow. "Dangerous? _Dangerous_? You want to talk about dangerous?"

"Please don't yell at me. Haymitch already cursed me out."

"It serves you right. What the hell were you _thinking_?"

The tears came then.

Now that she was with the people she could be most vulnerable with.

"I've known what I was supposed to do for years, Effie. This was always my purpose."

"Your purpose was to get yourself _killed_?"

Cinna sighed and looked away. "Sit down, Effie. Let me get you a drink."

"You think I want a drink? Cinna I want an explanation."

"Well I don't have one," he snapped.

"Don't you dare take that tone with me," snapped back Effie.

Cinna pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. "Effie, please sit down. Let me pour you a drink."

Effie shook her head and took a seat next to Portia. Cinna walked over to the bar and returned with something brown.

Effie threw it in his face.

"So amazing seeing her go off on someone other than me," Haymitch said, and she shot him a look that him sitting back and shutting up.

"I deserved that," Cinna said, wiping his face. "I'm sorry, Effie."

"Why did she get an apology?" asked Haymitch.

"If I owe anyone in this room an apology, it's Effie," Cinna said, approaching her. "You were never apart of this mission. I wasn't lying when I said most of us were prepared to die for this Rebellion. I knew not to get too close to anyone. But you? You were a diamond in the rough, an unexpected twist in a carefully executed plan. I am so sorry for getting so close to you. I know I haven't made this easy."

"I just wish you had _told_ me." Effie wiped her eyes, shaking her head sadly.

"Tell you what? That I was always supposed to die in this Rebellion?" Cinna smiled sadly. "And what would that have achieved?" He pulled her into him. "You are a jewel, Effie, a crowned jewel. Please don't ever forget that. I love you."

He embraced her and Effie held on to him. "I love you too, Cinna"

Cinna hugged her for several moments and then he walked over to Haymitch. "It's been an honor working with you, Haymitch Abernathy. Your brilliance is unmatched in this Rebellion. I hope and pray that you too will always remember who the real enemy is." Haymitch arched an eyebrow. "There are more people like Snow out there. I trust you'll do the right thing once you figure it out. Or Katniss will." He hugged Haymitch and Haymitch slowly hugged him back. "Be kind to Effie," he whispered, and Haymitch stiffened. Cinna gripped him tighter. "Take care of her, and for God's sake, let her take care of you. Stop being afraid to feel."

He let Haymitch go and stepped back, taking a deep breath.

"I'm so sorry it had to end this way. But this is goodbye. If you don't mind, I'd like to spend my last night alive with my one true love." Portia materialized next to Cinna then, and Haymitch and Effie made their exit.

Neither one of them had the strength to look back.

 **XxXxXx**

Haymitch was about to turn to his door when Effie slithered around him and blocked his entrance.

"Effie—"

"Did you know?" she whispered fiercely.

Haymitch hesitated and her eyes widened. "I didn't know everything," he said quickly. "Cinna did confess to me that Snow was making Katniss wear the wedding dress, and he admitted he had made some alterations. I had no idea what."

"And of this suicide mission?"

"I honestly had no clue, up until yesterday afternoon when he told me. I told him not to do anything that would get him killed, and he made the statement that he was never supposed to survive."

Effie closed her eyes. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"He asked me not to. He said your reaction had to be real."

Effie shook her head and bit her lip. She took a few moments to calm herself, and Haymitch had to admire the way her eyes dried up. "How long do you think he has?"

"He'll prep Katniss for the Games. He won't make it back here."

She sucked in a harsh breath. Then she looked at him. "And you? You plan on dying on me anytime soon?"

Haymitch stared back into her ocean blue eyes. "Me? No chance in hell. At the very least, I'm gonna live until Snow's dead. We'll see what happens after that."

She seemed satisfied with the answer and started to move out of the way when he grabbed her arm, a little roughly.

Not intimately.

Not kindly.

Nothing at all like what she had gotten used to.

"You keep pulling stunts like you did tonight you're going to get very dead, very soon, and then I'm going to get very pissed. I can't protect Katniss and Peeta in that Arena if I'm busy hunting down the assholes who killed you, which I would be forced to do, because somehow, someway, Effie Trinket, you've gotten under my fucking skin."

"Yet I'd much rather die in your arms than by any Peacekeepers hands," she said calmly.

The sound of Haymitch hitting his fist against his door reverberated through the hallway. She stopped breathing as he glared at her, his face inches from hers, a storm brewing in his inflamed eyes, flashing like lightening.

"You wanna know how you've hurt me, Haymitch?" asked Effie darkly. "I could give you a million different scenarios. And not one of them would ever involve your knife."

She pushed him away from her walked into her bedroom.

 **XxXxXx**

She cried as she put on her makeup, knowing Cinna would never again do so.

She thought about waking up early to say her last goodbyes, but that'd just make it impossible.

More than anything she wanted to wake up from this nightmare.

But it was only just beginning.

The Games started in a couple of hours.

"Katniss and Peeta wanted me to tell you thank you," Haymitch said, and she stared at him in her vanity mirror. He was dressed and ready to go. "They said you're appreciated and the best Escort ever, and that they send their love."

She closed her eyes for several moments, and when she opened them, they were crystal clear.

Not a tear in sight.

"You do whatever it takes," she told him firmly. She stood up and went to her dresser and pulled out a notebook. "Here's your list of Sponsors. I haven't organized it based on allies yet, but you'll know who to look for."

He nodded and took the list, staring at her as he did so.

"You didn't sleep well," said Haymitch matter-of-factly.

"What, you mean with the imminent death of a friend of my mind, our two Tributes going _back_ into the Arena, and _you_ , well of course I slept well!"

Haymitch sighed. "Can you drop the attitude, Princess? I'm not drunk enough for this."

"Nor am I," Effie said coldly.

"You're the one that got rid of all the liquor."

"A decision I regret the more I hear you talk."

Haymitch took a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. "I'll see you in a bit."

The car ride was silent and tense, and even though Effie was patting her foot, Haymitch's hand never came out to comfort her. Halfway there she grabbed a glass and poured some liquor.

It didn't help.

This time when she looked at the Penthouse Suite all she could remember was Cinna. She immediately made her way to her room, closing the door behind her, taking desperate breaths and reminding herself to breathe.

Effie returned to the living room on time. As soon as the countdown began he heard her heels clicking louder and louder as she approached his side.

The scent of cherry blossoms nearly distracted him.

Damn them for crossing that line.

He literally wanted her all the time.

Even now, as the gong sounded, and the Games began.

"Something's wrong with her," Haymitch noted, and Effie saw what he meant. Katniss was definitely out of sorts. Her breathing was hard, and she looked devastated about something.

Then they see her visibly start looking around, taking in her bearings. The Arena was… unique, to say the least, and surrounded by water, which Effie thought was going to be a problem, until….

"I had no idea our girl could swim," muttered Effie once Katniss dived into the water.

"Nor did I," Haymitch said.

"She's damned good, too."

"Quick," agreed Haymitch.

A few intense fight breakout and then—

Effie turned to Haymitch. "You gave your bangle to _Finnick O'dair_?!"

Haymitch looked at Effie. "He's not as bad as you think," Haymitch said, and Effie looked at him skeptically. He lowered his voice, more so out of habit than anything, though there was no way anyone could hear them. Beetee had seen to that. "Female Victors aren't the only prostitutes, Effie." She paled, her eyes widening.

" _You_? Did they make you—"

"Not a fucking chance in hell," he said darkly. "I'd have killed any one of them before I went to bed with a fucking puppet Capitol bitch in all her wigs and costumes. Not to mention the consequences of me slitting her fucking throat would have gotten me killed, and then I wouldn't be standing here talking to you right now."

"Talking to a Capitol bitch you've fucked a few times," said Effie coldly.

He glared at her. "I never fucked you in your wig. I can't help the costume thing. You wear what you wear." He took a drink from his glass and drank back his anger. "And you're not a consistent Capitol bitch. Only sometimes." He chanced a glance at her and she rolled her eyes, but there was a small smirk on her face.

Another crisis averted.

"After Chaff, Finnick was the first one on board for this whole plan."

Effie turned back to the television screen. "Wow. I never would have known."

"You believed it a lot sooner than I did. Finnick makes you want to hate him."

"Katniss doesn't trust him," Effie commented.

Haymitch rolled his eyes. "What else is new? Katniss doesn't trust anybody."

"Well they are in the dark in all of this."

"She's just stubborn. Refuses to listen."

"Hm. Wonder where she gets that from," Effie said dryly.

"I can't even argue with you. She must have been my daughter in a previous life."

"In your previous Western life," Effie reminded him, and he laughed.

She turned and watched everything unfold.

"Jesus, Katniss, let Finnick get the boy," snapped Haymitch.

When Finnick patted Katniss' stomach Effie glanced at Haymitch. "You don't think—"

"You're right. I don't think about it. At all. Ever. What the fuck those kids did in her room is their business."

Effie bit her lip to keep from smiling. "Well I don't think so. Peeta's a genius, though."

"God bless him," Haymitch said when Peeta stepped between Katniss and Finnick.

"Water?" murmured Effie as she noticed the sweat dripping from their faces.

Haymitch didn't get a chance to answer.

She thought all was okay for now. No important deaths.

Until Peeta walked into that forcefield.


	27. Chapter 27

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Words: 2,139

Effie clutched Haymitch's arm and gasped as Haymitch repeated, "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit," over and over again.

And then they both gaped as for the first time in Games history, one Victor gave another mouth-to-mouth. On one hand Haymitch was grateful, and hopeful, at what Finnick was doing, but on the other hand he silently pleaded for Finnick to be careful.

This was new territory.

Effie cringed when Finnick hits Katniss, and she hits a tree, and then moaned and sunk to the ground, her heart pounding, when Peeta was finally bought back to life.

"Careful. There's a forcefield up ahead."

Haymitch left her there, without so much as a backwards glance, and then he reappeared, crouching low and handing her a drink.

She accepted it, drinking most of its contents.

Then she stood up and walked over to the couch.

"I can't watch anymore. I'm done. My heart can't take it. I'm old." She looked at him. "And so are you."

"I resent that."

"It's true."

"Is this your token?" asked Katniss, and Haymitch's head whipped towards the screen.

When he looked back at Effie his eyes were boiling.

"He asked me to do it," Effie said, shrinking under his gaze.

"Are you fucking insane?"

"Don't be mad," Effie said. "It's the last thing I got to do for him."

Haymitch stared at her for several moments and then made his way back to the bar, getting another drink for himself.

"You are an impossibly stubborn woman," he said angrily.

"Guess I've been around you too long."

"Fuck you, Trinket."

Effie smiled darkly at Haymitch. "It's too late for that, Haymitch." She jerked her head to the television. "Go get our Tributes some water."

 **XxXxXx**

"A spile," Effie said when she heard the door open. "Clever." She turned to Haymitch as he approached the couch. "Your idea?"

"Would you believe me if I told you yes?"

"Of course I would."

He sat down next to her and took her glass out of her hand and drank from it. Effie just stared at him.

"What? We've fucked before, right?"

She grabbed her drink back. "Yes, and I need this to help me forget. Go get your own." When he didn't move she leaned back against him, a small smile on her face.

He let her stay there, and they ended up sharing her drink.

They dozed off—not for long, but long enough for the chiming to startle them awake.

"What the hell?" asked Effie, sitting up.

They watched in silence until the chiming stopped.

"12," muttered Haymitch. "Maybe one for each District?"

Effie shook her head. "Remember the Cornucopia? Think about its shape. I think it's a clock."

Haymitch stared at Effie as if he were seeing her for the first time.

"If it's a clock, then every hour…."

"Will probably bring something deadly," finished Effie.

They stared at the television.

"What the hell is that, some sort of mist?"

"Fog," corrected Effie.

When the blisters appeared on Katniss' body, Haymitch cursed.

"Poisonous."

"Peeta," whispered Effie. "The forcefield has really affected him."

And then Effie stared, horrified.

"More than poisonous," moaned Effie. "What the hell is Plutarch playing at?" She rounded on Haymitch. "If he kills either one of them, promise me you'll take care of him." Her eyes were blazing.

"Oh he'll try his best to keep them alive," Haymitch said, but it's what he didn't say that hat her eyes widening. It would be okay for Peeta and Katniss to be injured, as long as they lived.

Effie slowly turned around and looked back to the television.

"I'm sorry, Mags. I can't do it," Finnick says.

The tears wouldn't have stopped even if Effie had tried to suppress them. She choked out a sob when Mags kissed Finnick, then set off towards the direction of the fog. She gasped when Katniss nearly follows, but the sound of the canon stopped her.

Effie made to grab Haymitch, but he was already gone, by the bar, a drink to his lips.

He had known Mags.

By nature she wants to comfort him, but things were… different between them at the moment, so she kept her distance, allowing him to drink. She found a spot back on the couch and sat down as Katniss, Peeta, and Finnick detoxify in the water.

Haymitch sat down next to her after a finishing a few drinks, a full glass in his hand.

"I don't like those monkeys," Effie said to no one in particular.

"They're creepy as shit," agreed Haymitch.

Both of them stood up as they watched the action: Katniss, Peeta, and Finnick against what seemed like a million monkeys.

"Oh my God," gasped Effie when a monkey lunged at Peeta.

She watched as Katniss tried to jump in front of him to save him and—

Effie just blinked at the television, her mouth agape, her eyes wide.

Then she slowly looked at Haymitch.

"Did… did she… did a _morphling_ just _sacrifice_ herself for Peeta?"

"Yes," Haymitch said.

Effie glanced around. "How the hell did you all get _them_ on your side?"

Haymitch shrugged. "I guess I know a thing or two about self-medicating," he said. "Doesn't mean you can't rebel."

Effie frowned. "So… Mags sacrificed herself, as did—"

"Starting to put it together, huh?"

"How long before you think Snow puts it together?"

"I don't think he cares," Haymitch said. "He knows that eventually it'll come down to the wire between Katniss and somebody."

They decided to sleep while Katniss, Peeta, and Finnick slept. She didn't mean to, but she ended up falling asleep against Haymitch.

When she woke to sunlight seeping through the windows, she realized she was alone.

But there was a blanket covering her.

She felt the ice in her heart towards Haymitch start to soften, just a little.

She glanced at the television screen and noticed that everyone was still asleep. She hurried to her room to take a quick shower, applying minimal makeup and keeping her real hair.

She has no one to impress, as Haymitch has seen her like this, and preferred her like this. Besides, she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to makeup her face again without Cinna.

She found herself shedding a few more tears over her friend.

When she arrived back in the living room Haymitch walked through the front door. He stopped in his tracks when he saw her.

"Where's your face?" he asked.

She arched an eyebrow. "Where's your drink?" responded Effie coolly, and he grinned.

"Taking care of that right now."

"Where were you?"

Before Haymitch could answer they hear Katniss say, "Hey, Haymitch, if you're not too drunk, we could use a little something for our skin."

Effie bit her lip to keep from laughing, but failed miserably when she turned and saw the scowl on Haymitch's face.

"God I love that girl," sighed Effie.

"Yah, you two have a lot in common. You're both a right pain my ass."

Haymitch stomped over to the bar, pouring himself a drink, just as a parachute landed in Katniss' lap.

"How'd you know?" asked Effie.

"They were scratching in their sleep all night."

"Hm. I didn't hear a thing."

He eyed her for a moment. "That's because you were snoring."

Effie flushed. "A lady never snores," she said. Haymitch opened his mouth but Effie shot him a look that had him sipping his drink.

Haymitch showered, changed, and then slept for a few hours up until Johanna's screaming woke him up.

The slap Johanna gave Katniss rivaled Effie's slap to Haymitch the day they had the meeting.

"What the _hell_?" snapped Effie, eyes flashing.

Haymitch stood there, stunned, and the two of them listened as Johanna yelled at Katniss, asking, "Who do you think got them out of that bleeding jungle for you?"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut _up_ ," growled Haymitch to the television, and before Johanna can continue, Finnick has picked her up and started carrying her off. "Fucking Johanna."

Haymitch bit his jaw and started pacing.

"Someone else who's a right pain in your ass?" asked Effie.

"No. Hell no. I actually care about you and Katniss."

"Well that's certainly news," Effie muttered.

"I care about Johanna too, but not like you two," continued Haymitch. "She's a nut job. But we had to have her as an ally because she'd definitely be an enemy otherwise." He glared at the TV. "Hot headed, that one is. Nasty temper, and an even filthier mouth."

Effie frowned. "I seriously cannot take three Haymitch's in my life. I can barely handle two. I can hardly handle one."

Haymitch looked at her. "All Victors act alike."

"Not Peeta," reasoned Effie.

Haymitch snorted. "Yah, if Katniss and I are one in the same, then you and Peeta are definitely two peas in a pod."

"Thank you, you're too kind," smiled Effie. Haymitch rolled his eyes.

"Tick tock, tick tock," Wiress says, and they both turn their attention back to the Games.

"Why does she keep saying that?" asked Haymitch.

"Do you listen when I speak?" Effie said.

"I really try not to."

She felt her eye starting to twitch. They were back to their playful banter, at least, but damn him he could be so annoying.

Taking a deep breath she turned to him. "I told you, it's a clock."

Haymitch looked at her, frowning, and then turned back to the Games.

When Katniss confirmed it Haymitch cursed.

"I'm way too mature to say I told you so," Effie said smugly.

He shot her a filthy look.

And then all fun and games ended once Wiress was killed.

"Well shit," Haymitch said, dumbfounded.

"No matter how much I think I've seen, the Games never cease to surprise me," Effie said bitterly. They watched for several more moments, and then Effie said, "Katniss is starting to piece things together. Look at her face. She has no poker face."

"I _know_ you ain't talking, Princess."

But before Effie could respond, a familiar shriek forced their attention back to the Games.

Effie knew who's voice it was before Katniss called out her name.

She'd heard it on the day of the Reaping, when Katniss hadn't been allowed to say goodbye.

"Prim," whispered Effie.

She has to run to the kitchen sink after ten minutes of hearing Prim and Annie, and Haymitch stood there, transfixed for about two full minutes, totally dumbfounded at Effie's reaction, before he realized what a complete jackass he was being and finally made his way over to her.

She'd emptied her stomach by then, and was washing her face, her hands shaking.

"Don't. I'm fine."

She wasn't fine, but he realized that something was broken between them when she walked away from him.

He'd broken them.

And as he listened to Beetee tell the group part of the plan, he realized he didn't have that long to fix it.

Maybe this would be better. Maybe if he kept them at odds it'd make leaving easier.

He might have really believed that, too, if he hadn't heard his name on the screen.

"I don't know what kind of deal you think you made with Haymitch, but you should know he made me promises as well," Peeta said.

"Well, shit," muttered Haymitch.

"So I think we can assume he was lying to one of us," continued Peeta.

"Why are you saying this now?" Katniss asked.

"Because I don't want you forgetting how different our circumstances are. If you die, and I live, there's no life for me at all back in District Twelve. You're my whole life," he says. "I would never be happy again. It's different for you. I'm not saying it wouldn't be hard. But there are other people who'd make your life worth living."

Effie sighed next to him, and he could hear the tears in her voice when she said, "Oh, Peeta."

And then Peeta showed her what was in the medallion, which was really a locket.

He turned to Effie, who had tears running down her face.

"This is fucking depressing," Haymitch said.

And to capitalize on it, Peeta says, "No one needs me."

It was a little more than he could stand, so he got up and made his way to the bar.

If all went according to plan, they would both make it out of that Arena.

They had to.

He turned around to find Katniss and Peeta sharing the kiss of a lifetime.

Fucking love.

It was way more trouble than it was worth.

Because if he didn't bring Peeta out of that Arena alive, Katniss was going to kill him.

But love also filled him with something he hadn't felt in a long time.

Hope.

He didn't know if he should kiss Effie for that, or kill her.


	28. Chapter 28

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Words: 2,405

"Chaff is gonna die soon," he said bluntly when she'd walked back in the door. She'd just returned from a quick meeting with a new Sponsor. Effie stiffened and turned towards him. He didn't meet her eye, just took a sip of his liquor as he settled himself back on the couch. "He was never supposed to make it with us to… wherever we're going. He's going to die in that Arena."

She hesitated, very briefly, and then sat down, reaching for his hand and gripping it tightly. He slowly gripped it back, squeezing her hand.

It was the first real intimate moment they had since the last time they'd slept together.

They kept their fingers locked for several moments, until large gasps started to overtake Haymitch, and with one final squeeze, he left the living room, no doubt running to grieve in his room, alone.

Effie gave him an hour, and when he still hadn't back come out, she found her way to his room, after stopping in her own for a few moments. She took off her wig, washed her face, but kept her dress on.

He needed the real Effie.

She paused outside his door, noting she didn't hear anything other than the music playing.

She twisted the knob and made her way inside.

"Haymitch?" she whispered above the music.

"Don't," said Haymitch, and Effie found him near his bar, drinking straight from a bottle.

"Don't what? Allow you to _feel_?"

"I don't want you here, Effie."

"That's fine," lied Effie. "I don't have to stay. But you shouldn't dishonor Chaff's memory by acting as if he doesn't deserve the heartache. How do you think Chaff would have reacted if it had been you?"

"I don't know, and he's currently unavailable for me to ask him."

She didn't let his coldness dismiss her. "He'd have mourned for you, Haymitch, because he cared about you, and that's what you do when you care about people. Chaff deserves a breakdown. Don't dishonor his memory trying to be strong."

"You don't fucking know what you're talking about. You didn't know him."

Effie shook her head. "I knew him, because I knew you." She walked up to him and handed him a bottle of white liquor. "Mourn your friend, Haymitch. Nobody ever has to know that Haymitch Abernathy, Quarter Quell Victor and current Rebel, finally had a breakdown after twenty-five bloody years."

Haymitch stared at the bottle for several moments. "Where'd you get this?"

"Let's just say you don't know all of my hiding places," Effie said with a sad smile. "I'll leave you to your thoughts."

She had reached the door and was about to open it when he called her. "Drink with me."

She turned around. "Okay. But only a few glasses. One of us should watch the Games."

"Turn it on," he commanded, and she did.

She sat down on the edge of his bed as he handed her a full glass and took a sip.

She coughed. "Oh my God that's horrible."

Haymitch took a long drink. "Chaff would have loved it."

His voice cracked at the end and Effie stilled, unsure of what to do. Address it, and prove it happened? Or ignore it, and let him suffer alone.

She stood and reached out to him. "Effie," was all he whimpered out, and then he was in her arms.

"If there's anyone who deserves your grief, it's Chaff. And I promise your secret's safe with me."

It wasn't just Chaff he thought about. It was his mother, and his brother, and his girl. And Cinna, and Portia, and Seeder, and every fucking Tribute he'd had before Katniss and Peeta.

Effie didn't say anything—what could she say? So she just held him, until she lost track of how long they stood there, embracing.

"Better?" asked Effie after a long while.

"Not really."

"Then drink. Drink to Chaff's memory." She walked to the bar and poured him a large glass, and then picked hers up off of the floor. "To Chaff," she said, and he grabbed his own glass and shot it back.

"This honestly the worst thing I've ever tasted in my life,"

Haymitch stared at her, his mouth twisting suddenly. "Pussy."

Her mouth sprung open in shock.

She threw the rest back, just to prove she could.

She had to force herself to swallow it, but she did it.

She sat on his bed, triumphant.

She was asleep in minutes.

Haymitch laughed at her and crawled next to her, continuing to drink.

In Chaff's memory.

 **XxXxXx**

There used to be a time when drinking numbed the pain.

Now it jut made him vulnerable.

He wanted her.

He missed her.

Missed her scent, her touch, her laugh.

The way she said his name when they made love.

It wouldn't be fair to sleep with her now. Not when he'd practically ignored her for three days. Not when he'd made a complete ass out of himself with his damned nightmares.

Not when he'd pushed her away.

Yet he couldn't quite suppress his groan when Effie shifted in her sleep, her leg intertwining with his.

Fuck it.

He sat his drink down and then took his knife from behind his back. He flung it across the room and it lodged itself against the wall, much like Katniss' knife had done what had to be a lifetime ago.

"That is mahogany," Effie snapped, and he hadn't even known she was awake. He ignored her statement and climbed on top of her. Her breath caught in her throat and he could feel her heartbeat speed up.

"Effie." Her name seemed to be the word of the night.

She slithered her hands up his back and lifted her head.

When their lips met something shifted inside of Haymitch. It was like the entire world shifted.

Again the question of how he'd denied himself for so long entered his mind, especially now that he'd had her before.

"Haymitch," whispered Effie, and he stopped and looked at her. "I'm not glass." He stiffened against her and stared into her eyes.

They were dark with lust.

She snaked her hands underneath his shirt and ripped it open, buttons flying everywhere.

He wasn't gentle—they'd have years for gentle, or so he told himself.

But now? Now he was mourning his best friend, and planning a Rebellion, and he just needed release.

She clawed at his back as he pounded into her, and he loved that she took it, took it, took it, thrust for thrust, pain and pleasure.

Fire and ocean.

When he was down, she was up.

When he trembled she remained steady.

Where his nails scratched her fingers caressed.

When he cursed she sighed.

When he moaned she groaned.

When he bit she kissed.

And when he stuttered out 'Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ,' as he came, she whispered out, "I love you," and everything froze as their eyes locked.

Then she pushed him even deeper into her, arching her back, and groaned out, "Don't say it. Don't say it unless you mean it."

She clenched around him and he squeezed his eyes shut, gripping her hand as the waves of pleasure splashed him.

She sat up when he slid out of her, and immediately climbed on top of him. "More," she panted, and he thought that this was it—she was really going to kill him.

She slithered down his body and took him in her mouth and he grabbed her hair when he felt himself hardening.

When he was close she came up, climbing on top of him.

"Take this shit off," he snapped, ripping at her gown, and she all too happily obliged, so when she was on top of him, she sank down on him completely naked.

So this was heaven.

What took him so long to get here?

He loved her. He knew he did. He just didn't know how to say it.

So he hoped she understood in the way he called out her name, giving all of himself as he emptied himself into her.

She had his soul, this crazy, high-strung, beautiful woman.

And he'd find her after all this bullshit was over.

He didn't care how many oceans he had to cross.

Panting he slid his arms down her back. She sighed and slid off of him, resting against his chest.

He wished he could freeze this moment forever.

She was drawing circles on his chest when she said, "This will be the last time we sleep together," ever so softly.

"Don't," he warned her, stiffening. Not when it had been so perfect.

"It's true. You know it is." She took a deep breath. "You always knew the Arena was a clock, didn't you?" She stopped moving her hands against his chest and looked at him. "And you're leaving soon." He felt the pressure return to his chest. "Aren't you?"

"Yes," he said quietly.

She nodded.

"How'd you know?"

"You slipped up. You said Chaff is dying _soon_. Not that Chaff was dying. 'Soon' implied a time. And it only makes sense. You told me that the plan was to break Katniss out of the Arena. That also suggests before the Games are over, because no one ever said the plan was to get her out as a winner."

Haymitch stroked Effie's back, not saying anything.

Even quieter still Effie asked, "How long do I have?"

Haymitch glanced at the clock. "I'll leave in about an hour and a half."

Midnight then.

"Once more, then?" He grinned. "Nothing gentle. Nothing sweet. It'd make it too unbearable when you leave."

Afterwards she climbed off of him, rummaging around for his shirt. When she found it she slipped it on, and then made her way to the door.

Panicking, he called her name, but she only held up her hand. He relaxed a little when she left his door open. A few minutes later she reappeared, a duffle bag in her hand. He had slipped on his pants and another shirt by the time she returned.

She approached the bed, their only source of light the television.

"I packed this for you a while ago," she told him without looking at him. He slowly walked towards her as she unzipped the bag. "I have packed the essentials, of course." She started taking out items: a map, matches, canned goods, water.

"What's this?" asked Haymitch, noting something small and round.

Effie smiled. "It was my father's. He was a real history buff, and reveled in old holidays like Columbus Day. That was his compass."

"Jesus," muttered Haymitch. She also pulled out night vision goggles, binoculars, and cash.

Lots of cash.

"This can't be traced back to me, trust me," Effie said.

She had emptied out all but two items.

The first item was a gold flask. "This was your real token," Effie said. "But I knew you were trying to stay sober, and I didn't want to tempt you." Haymitch looked at the flask, a smile tugging on his lips.

"It has a Mockingjay on it," noted Haymitch.

"All of our tokens did, originally. It also has your initials."

Drinking wouldn't be the only reason he kept this close to him.

The second item was a black jacket. "Cinna helped me design it," she told him softly, and Haymitch wanted nothing more than to drink down this lump rising in his throat. "It's bulletproof."

"So then I guess it's safe to say you want me alive, then?"

Effie cupped his cheeks then. "I have worked with you for twenty years, and have wanted to kill you with my own hands at least twice a day ever single day I was in your presence. If anybody else gets the chance to take you out, I'm going to be royally pissed."

He thought that was the most beautiful thing she'd ever told him.

"You take care of yourself, okay?" She kissed him then. "You come back to me black and blue and bruised if you have to. But Haymitch?"

"Princess?"

"Stay alive," she whispered against his lips.

"I will find you, okay Effie?" He kissed her neck, and then bit her collarbone. "I promise I'll find you."

"Oh, you better Mr. Abernathy. I don't care how long it takes."

He looked up at her, their eyes locking.

"Effie I—"

"Don't you dare," Effie said, placing her index finger on his lips. "For God's sakes, don't even think it. Don't say anything that'll make this goodbye even more difficult. Whatever you have to say, whatever peace you want to make, whatever you want to get off your chest, you tell me when you come back to me."

It was the right call. Telling her that he loved her would seem like it was only in the heat of the moment, and she deserved better than that.

"You ain't gonna cry or nothin', right Princess?"

"Wouldn't dream of it."

He grabbed the bag and swung it over his shoulder. "Good." He walked to his bedroom door—a door he hoped he'd never see again, and then turned around to find Effie in the same spot he left. "Bright eyes. Big smile. Chin up."

She lifted her chin and smiled, and he held her gaze for a moment longer, and then he was gone.

She stood there until she heard the door slam.

"Good luck Haymitch," she whispered into the night. "May the odds be ever in your favor."

She made her way to her room and started turning herself into Effie Trinket, Capitol Escort. She rummaged through her closet, looking for one of Cinna's timeless designs, her eyes settling on a gold dress that she hadn't worn yet.

She put on a pair of gold pumps, making sure it matched her eye shadow and lips.

Then she found her gold wig and placed it atop her head.

She made her way to the living room, Haymitch's shirt in her hand.

She didn't cry. She kept her word to Haymitch. Even as she watched Chaff die, and Peeta avenge his death. She kept the tears at bay even when Katniss let her arrow fly into the forcefield.

When the Peacekeepers came, they found her still seated calmly on the couch, her television screen black, like every other television was in all of Panem.

It was obvious who her alliance was to.

Her wig said it all.

The Mockingjay.

 **SO THIS IS THE MOST DEPRESSING CHAPTER I'VE EVER WRITTEN IN MY LIFE. I'M ACTUALLY IN TEARS, AS IF I DON'T KNOW HOW THE BOOK ENDS (YOU KNOW, WITH EFFIE BEING OKAY). I HAVE THOROUGHLY DEPRESSED MYSELF THIS CHAPTER.**

 **With that said, I'm not going to be too graphic in my descriptions of Effie being tortured. In fact, a lot of these chapters will be told from Haymitch's POV while he's in 13. I just have this scene in mind for some serious bad-assery from Haymitch when he FINALLY finds out that Effie was taken.**

 **All I can say it's about to go downnnn (Kevin Hart voice).**

 **The story's definitely coming to a close here, as we've reached Mockingjay now. I have SO fallen in love with these two.**

 **And Cinna/Lenny Kravitz. He is perfection.**

 **Let me know if this chapter affected yall like it did me!**

 **Thanks.**

 **-thamockingjayandpeeta**

 **PS: Yall can keep your Adele Hello's. I agree, I think it's a great Hayffie song but uhhhh HAS ANYONE HEARD ALL I ASK? Let me tell you I've been trying to write a song fic for Hello for FOREVERRRRR. INSPIRATION WILL NOT COME. I listen to that song EVERY SINGLE DAY, I CAN PICTURE HAYFFIE, but I canNOT sit down and write. I'm burnt OUT in regards to song fics.**

 **Until I heard All I Ask. I think it's the PERFECT song for Hayffie when he's leaving for 13. Look out of that for Loosen Your Corset =]**


	29. Chapter 29

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Words: 2,319

They walked briskly down the dark corridor.

"Get him to Detox," Coin said.

"I'm fine," replied Haymitch, the bag Effie gave him in his hand.

"You're not fine. You're still going through withdrawals; I can tell by the way your hands are shaking. I need you detoxed ASAP because I don't have time for your snide remarks or crankiness. Not to mention I need your mind off of the bottle and onto  
the larger matter at hand."

Haymitch bit his cheek, glancing sideways at Plutarch, who refused to meet his eye.

Haymitch scowled.

"What happened to your face?"

"Our Mockingjay is pissed that we didn't save the boy as well." He wouldn't give anyone of the satisfaction of letting anyone know how badly his face hurt.

His girl could hit.

He'd be proud if it didn't hurt so damn badly.

"I did say I'd rather have him, but no one listened. She'll have to get over it," Coin said coolly. The three of them stopped at a gray door. "This is where we part. You'll be secluded until you're deemed able to leave. Until then." She shook his hand,  
her grip firm, and turned to Plutarch. "I imagine you want to sleep. Give me an hour of your time after you deal with him and I'll grant you that. My office in twenty, Soldier."

And with that, she was gone.

"She is strangely dislikable," muttered Haymitch.

Plutarch cracked somewhat of a smile. "That's why we had you mainly deal with Paylor." Plutarch acknowledged the guard's presence, and following the guard, the two of them made their way to what would be Haymitch's home for the next few months. "You'll  
probably go stir crazy so I'll try and get you in on the action as soon as I can. You're somewhat of a legend here, so it shouldn't be too difficult. Most people know how long you've been in on this. So do me a favor… don't blow it."

"Don't I always rise to the occasion?"

Plutarch arched an eyebrow.

"Okay, so I'm a screw up. But there's too much at stake here. I'll do what I'm supposed to."

"Good. And just so you know, District 13 strongly believes in Prohibition. You'll find no alcohol here, and even rubbing alcohol is kept under lock and key."

Haymitch sighed. "Let's get this shit over with."

"I think this will be a good time. You should let yourself heal. Heal and… mourn." Plutarch hesitated once he reached the door, and then slowly turned around. "For what it's worth… I'm sorry about Chaff. He was a good soldier."

Plutarch left, and Haymitch wished more than ever he had a drink.

Whether it was for Chaff or Effie, he wasn't sure.

 **XxXxXxXx**

Haymitch watched, slightly amused, as Plutarch paced back and forth. "She's horrible, Haymitch. I mean really, really bad. In the Games you forget she's a fifteen, sixteen-year-old girl. She's vicious. But here in 13? She's nothing but a child."

"With a broken heart," Haymitch muttered. "You can't force Katniss Everdeen to do anything. She's from the Seam. That's how we're made. Let her go to 12."

"There's nothing _there_ , Haymitch."

"Let her see that."

Plutarch stared at Haymitch Abernathy, former Victor of the 50th Hunger Games, a Quarter Quell, and most devoted person in the rebellion. Plutarch hadn't been lying when he had told Haymitch that he was a legend. He was respected. Always had been, and  
always would be. Haymitch may have a temper; he may be a drunk; he may be incredibly difficult to work with. But the man was brilliant, and his brain never stopped working, even in his drunken stupors.

Plutarch trusted Haymitch with his life.

"Okay. I'll suggest it at the meeting tomorrow."

Haymitch nodded his goodbye, his face immediately turning gloomy the minute Plutarch was gone.

It was crazy. Insane, really, how this time last year solitary confinement wouldn't have bothered him. Not in the least. But now? Now he fucking hated it. He was damned miserable. The only people he saw was Plutarch.

Katniss hated him.

And damn it, she should. Peeta was supposed to be taken out of that Arena alive. All the people who had died on his behalf, only for him to be left?

Thinking about it made him want to dive head first into the nearestliquor bottle.

Only there was no liquor bottle to dive head first into.

Not in 13.

Blasted District.

How the hell was he supposed to _function_?

He couldn't. There was actually no way to possibly function.

Not with the withdrawal symptoms.

He was losing weight—Plutarch told him that at some point they were going to make him start working out, but not now. Now his skin was yellow, his hair matted, his cheeks hollow.

He hated being this sober.

The nightmares kept coming back. And the hallucinations.

Not just ones about his girl and his family. But ones about Katniss and Peeta, and Chaff. Chaff who was already dead, and could be added to the list of ghosts who'd haunt him for the rest of his life.

And he had dreams of Effie.

 _So_ many dreams of Effie.

Most nights he couldn't figure out if he was throwing up because of his dreams or the lack of alcohol.

He had to keep reminding himself that Effie was safe. They had left her behind because it was safer.

Plutarch had promised him that she'd be safer.

Course there was no point in promises when it came to war.

He was really good at keeping thoughts of Effie at bay.

Until night fell.

When he realized how lonely he was, and how in a few short days he'd gotten to her body, next to his.

Fucking A why did they ever cross that line?

If it wasn't for Plutarch Haymitch would have gone mad. He kept him updated about everything going on: Katniss going to 12 with Gale, and secretly coming back with Buttercup. Her agreeing to be the Mockingjay after Peeta's own propo.

Peeta.

Haymitch had nearly wept with relief when he found out Peeta was still alive, until he realized the alcohol was making him stupid.

This was bad. Really bad. There was only one reason Snow would keep that boy alive, and it was to fuck with Katniss.

When he found out Annie had been taken to get to Finn, Haymitch threw up all night.

Whether it was from withdrawls or fear he wasn't sure.

He was going soft.

He blamed Katniss. Katniss had changed something in him, probably because she reminded him of himself from head to toe, and he'd forced himself to care about her. Then Peeta came, politely fucking asking his way into the corners of Haymitch's dormant  
heart.

And then once he let them in, it only made sense to add Cinna and Portia.

Which then, in turn, forced him to open up to Effie.

Fucking shit.

How did he get here?

That was easy. Lack of medicinal liquid.

He was forced to remain sober. It was amazing what sobriety could do to a man.

He was going insane.

As time passed, he started to wonder if any of this was even worth it.

He thought back to how he'd first gotten involved. It'd only been six months after Snow killed his family, on his Victory Tour, where he'd first met Chaff. Chaff was already something of a legend. He'd refused to have his arm fixed, which in itself was  
considered defiant.

They'd been cut from the same cloth, those two.

They'd chatted over drinks at the bar of his Victory Ball, and after about an hour they had left the bar and gone to a booth. Chaff had suggested it, and Haymitch had thought nothing of it at first.

"You defied the Capitol," Chaff had said bluntly, and Haymitch had jerked in his seat.

"Well so did you," said Haymitch in response.

Chaff gave him a dark smile. "Yes. Yes, I did. And I'm damned glad I did, too."

Haymitch had looked around, his eyes darting in every direction nervously.

"Relax," Chaff said smoothly. "Don't draw any attention to yourself, or us. I'm just going to ask you a simple question, okay? It's yes or no. If no, you can walk out of here, none the wiser. If yes, I can figure out if you're trust worthy or not, and  
we can go from there."

Haymitch looked at Chaff, and something in his gut told him that this conversation would change his life forever, as bloody cliché as it was.

He had thrown back another drink—he was still new to the beauty of alcohol then—and asked, "What's your question?"

Chaff leaned closer to Haymitch, folding his arms on the table. "Would you like to avenge your family's death?"

Haymitch hadn't even hesitated. In fact he had answered so quickly that he didn't get a chance to wonder if he was being set up. He just looked Chaff dead in his eye and said, "Fuck yah."

And it had been the start of a beautiful friendship.

He'd been told about a whole different world: about District 13, and how it was still around.

District 13, who was once known for its weaponry.

One of the most vivid conversations Haymitch remembered having with Chaff was about the symbol. They were discussing how 13 needed a symbol of sorts to let people know about the Rebellion, whenever it finally presented itself. Something about putting  
it on the old footage of 13. They had a guy—Beetee from District 3—who could hack into the system and inplant the symbol.

"What could we use?" Haymitch had asked, taking a sip out of his bottle. He was a professional drinker now.

Chaff had leaned in closer. "Your story resonated with a lot of us closes to the Rebellion. It nearly ignited another spark amongst the Victors. We were pissed. So we thought… what if we used Masilee's Mockingjay?"

Haymitch had stared at Chaff, stunned.

The Mockingjay.

The bird that was never supposed to be.

Its very existence was rebellious.

He had obliged.

When Beetee became a Tribute a year later, all hell broke loose.

Whispers of there being a leak in the group started to surface, and things had shut down.

But that Mockingjay on the old footage always stayed in the right hand corner.

Gradually trust started to be rebuilt. They'd allowed more people in. Finnick. Johanna. Seeder.

They just needed the spark.

It started with a Volunteer.

And when he'd seen her with that Mockingjay pin, the wheels started turning.

The pressure was paramount.

And Katniss was naturally a Rebel. It was in her all along. All she needed was a push.

And then he'd grown to care about her, but by then it was too late.

And now he was more worried than ever. He was always worried. He'd been worried ever since Katniss had buried Rue, but before he could bury the worry in a deep, dark, sacred corner. He'd only have to visit that worry when he ran out of liquor, and then  
he was back to channeling it—or if he was really luck, ignoring it—until he got his next drink.

But now?

Now he was constantly worried about _something_ , least of all himself.

And he was pretty sure he was dying.

But no, he spent time worrying about Katniss, despite the fact that she currently hated his guts—he could just add her to the long list of people he'd betrayed over the years.

He thought about Peeta, and what they were doing to him in the Capitol, because they _had_ to be punishing him somehow. The boy wouldn't go untouched, and the fact that Snow was keeping him alive scared Haymitch more than anything. And he'd been  
the most innocent out of all of them. All he ever wanted to do was to protect the girl he'd loved.

He tried not to, but he also thought about Effie.

Haymitch did a great job of keeping her memory away during the day.

It was the nightmares that got to him.

She was always in them. It never failed.

Most of the time he dreamt about his first girl—and when had he start calling her his 'first,' as if he had two? Fawn. He'd call her by her name: Fawn Greir. He hadn't said her name to himself in _years_.

God she'd been beautiful. Dark brown hair that rivaled the best dark chocolate. Stormy gray eyes that rivaled the night sky. Dark olive skin that glistened.

But she was never pretty in his dreams.

Somehow Fawn always found her way into his Games. Most of the time Masilee would turn into Fawn, and sometimes Fawn would turn into Masilee. Either way it always ended with one of them dead in his arms.

Lately, though, it'd always been Fawn. They'd be running through a meadow, laughing, carefree, almost. Then they'd be Reapead, and his imagination came up with numerous ways to make sure she was killed, and that he'd never save her in time.

And every single time he reached her broken, dead body, and turned her own, she'd turn into Effie Trinket.

He found it difficult to understand how he still had anything left in his stomach to throw up.

He was never supposed to fucking care, damn it.

Nor was he supposed to miss her.

So when thoughts of her plagued his mind, he ignored them, for as long as he could, because damn it he needed to forget about her. He'd probably die in this damn Rebellion, anyway. It wouldn't be so damn bad. He'd be able to see Chaff and Cinna, and his  
mother and brother, and his first girl.

Fawn.

Long as he didn't see Effie.

He had no reason to think he would.

She was safe.


	30. Chapter 30

**FORGOT IT WAS TUESDAY! Sorry it's so late.**

CHAPTER THIRTY

Words: 2,359

She stayed completely still.

Everything hurt. It hurt to move. It hurt to blink. It hurt to think. The pain was unbearable.

They weren't going to kill her. She knew that now. They understood that she knew nothing, and if she did know anything, they understood that she thought some things were worth dying for. But they weren't going to kill her.

No. They just wanted to break her. Break her spirit. Break her soul. Break her heart.

And she deserved it.

She'd made peace with it long before. From the minute she realized she was being followed, she understood what fate would be awaiting her. She had kept it to herself. Everyone kept saying she'd be safer in the Capitol, but she had known better. She just  
never saw the point in saying anything. They had already had so much to worry about, and Effie saw the constant struggle Haymitch had within himself to add her to his list of things to worry about.

Haymitch.

As the months had passed—and she knew how many days had passed, because she always, always kept track, no matter what they did to her. She had taken to clawing at the wall with the plastic end of her eating utensils. When the guards had figured out what  
she was doing they'd laughed at her.

"No one's going to rescue you, you stupid bitch," the guard had told her, and they continued to allow her to mark her wall.

And within those days, as the months passed, she found herself thinking of Haymitch.

He wouldn't come from her. There was no point in getting her hopes up.

He had been the one lying to himself the most, believing that she was safe. It was easier that way. Less complicated. Peeta would be rescued. Johanna would be rescued. Annie would be rescued.

But Effie? No. Not at all.

None of them would have had any clue she was there.

And she was okay with that.

Because she was never supposed to make it out of this Rebellion alive. She'd die in this cell, alone, neglected, forgotten.

She wasn't sure when she had come up with that conclusion. Maybe when they had officially captured her. They didn't arrest her. They didn't talk to her. They had come into the Penthouse and hit her with their gun.

She was out instantly.

When she woke up she found her Mockingjay wig pinnedto the wall, as if it were meant to be a reminder of why she was here.

And her hair was chopped off.

Not well. Her hair was low in some places, patched in others, and uneven all around.

She'd felt the tears, but she had refused to cry.

Not over something as trivial as hair.

When they'd assaulted her, she screamed like never before.

It _hurt_. She wasn't meant to be strong.

They cut her.

Beat her.

Choked her until everything went black.

They hadn't even asked her a single question yet.

When she came back around she woke up to someone softly calling her name.

"Effie? Effie are you there? Are you okay?"

Effie had felt dizzy beyond measure, and sore, so sore, but she still forced herself to sit up, facing her dark cell wall. She touched the cold surface.

"Portia?" she whispered weakly, and she knew the stylist couldn't hear her. She cleared her throat, noting how scratched it was from all of her screaming, and tried again. "Portia?"

"Oh, Effie! You're okay!"

Effie figured 'okay' meant _alive_.

"Portia!" She felt the tears. "Oh my God. Are you okay? Is Cinna…?"

Quiet greeted her for several moments. And then… "No. Cinna's definitely dead." The question was on her lips when Portia said, "Trust me, I know. They killed him in front of me."

Effie whimpered. She didn't know she could hurt like this. She knew Cinna was dead, but to have it actually confirmed….

"Effie, it's okay. He'd want you to be strong."

Effie leaned her head against the wall, trying to get closer to her friend, and wondered if she were dreaming.

"You'll be okay, Effie. They won't touch you. Just keep telling them you don't know anything, because you don't."

She heard the underlying warning: their rooms were probably bugged, so don't give anything away.

This went on for weeks. She learned that Portia's prep team was there as well. Portia was a constant comfort, until one day Effie heard Portia screaming. Effie pounded on her walls, screaming for her friend, but to no avail.

She never heard from Portia again.

 **XxXxXx**

"Johanna? Johanna?" Effie knocked on her wall, unsure if Johanna could even hear it, but she continued to knock. It'd been hours since Johanna had last been tortured, and Effie wasn't sure if the girl had recovered from it this time.

"I'm here, Trinket." Johanna's shaky whisper was enough to satisfy her, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

She leaned against her wall and took several calming breaths.

She wasn't sure when things had changed between her and Johanna, but the former Victor didn't hate her as much now. When Effie thought she _was_ going to die, that they had changed her mind and was going to kill her, she had taken her last amount  
of strength and apologized.

"I'm sorry," she had whispered to silence. She had tried talking and comforting Johanna, the same way Portia had done to and for her, but Johanna had never responded, unless it was to tell Effie to fuck off or go to hell. Most of the time Effie only knew  
Johanna was okay because she was tortured every day.

But when Effie thoughtshe was dead—it was cold… so cold—she had taken her last few breaths to apologize to the Victor, for every wrong she had done, for every name she had pulled.

She was out of it for three days.

She had woken up to a guard slapping the dog shit out of her face. "Oh, no, bitch. You don't get to die. Wake the fuck up."

She thought she heard someone screaming on her behalf in the background, but she wasn't sure.

The world went black again.

When she woke back up it took her a while to understand that the hissing she kept hearing was Johanna calling her name, over and over again.

"Answer me, got damn it! You don't get to die for fuck's sake. _Answer me_!" She heard something about Portia still being alive, prepping Peeta for interviews, and if Johanna had hoped that'd get a rise out of the former Escort, she was wrong.

Effie would have loved to answer her, but her throat was so dry and scratchy that she couldn't.

Besides, her head would fall off if she blinked too hard.

So she slept instead.

When she finally came back around another two days had passed. She knew because the guard that was hovering over her snarled that she'd been out of it for five days, and if she didn't snap out of it'd he'd kill her with his bare hands.

When she found the strength, she crawled over to her wall and marked her tallies.

The greatest effort of all was clearing her throat and finding the strength to call out Johanna's name.

"Damn it Trinket, you scared the shit outta me. I thought you were dead."

She smiled at the concern in Johanna's voice. "Are you okay?"

"Sure. Better than ever." She could hear Johanna rolling her eyes through the walls.

"They'll come for you, you know."

"Yah. So you keep saying. But if they come for me, they're coming for you too, Trinket. You know that."

Effie stiffened. She refused to get her hopes up. "Why would they? I'm nothing more than an Escort." She hoped Johanna understood what she couldn't say. _Don't give them leverage. Don't give them any reason to suspect_.

Johanna stayed quiet so Effie assumed she had understood.

 **XxXxXx**

As the days withered on Effie kept thinking about Haymitch.

She missed him.

She'd known the man for twenty years. She had started liking him in her fifth year. The year of his ten-year anniversary of his own Hunger Games.

Having Tributes she actually knew, and then seeing them die, instantly showed her that the Hunger Games weren't all fun and games. They were very real, and people became very dead. By the time her fifth year had arrived she was frail and confused. She  
didn't understand this foreboding feeling in the pit of her stomach.

And then she'd watched Haymitch's Games.

Haymitch, the laughing stock of not just the Capitol or 12, but all of Panem.

Haymitch, the drunk Mentor who couldn't bring himself—or 12—another Victor.

Haymitch, who always bought to caskets back to 12 with him.

Haymitch, who had been arrogant and stupid, had killed eight people, and outlasted forty-seven other Tributes to be crowned Victor.

Haymitch, who had watched Masilee die, and then his own family and girl only a couple of weeks later.

That had been her last straw in regards to the Games, and when Haymitch had come back to the Penthouse trashed out of his mind, for the first time she got it. She understood it all.

So she'd tried to be a little more patient, and understanding, and suddenly Haymitch wasn't as disgusting as she thought.

The Games were.

So she picked up after him, and cleaned him up, and she started working out, because she realized that Haymitch was a lot stronger than she was, and dragging him down the hallway towards his room wasn't very proper.

And somewhere along the way she started to like him. He wasn't so bad. Sure sometimes he was rude, and insufferable, but he made her laugh with some of the things he said while he was drunk, even if he didn't know he was saying it, or he never remembered  
saying them.

The best thing he'd ever told her was in her seventh year, when he'd had too much to drink _again_ , and he told her that she probably looked ten times better without all that cake on her face.

"It has to be an upgrade from looking like a clown," he had slurred.

He had had no clue that she'd been struggling with the Capitol look as of late. By this time her powdered face and tall wigs were apart of the Games, and she honestly wanted nothing to do with the Games ever again.

She knew the wigs and face were _proper_ , but the Games were hardly proper, were they?

She had started hating her mask.

Somewhere along the years she had started to fall for him. She had never pinpointed when—and she had spent the past several months pondering it after the guards had beaten her black and blue, or left her bleeding.

 _Something_ had changed, though. Not just on her end. Haymitch and her traded barbs, and yes, they fought _every bloody day_ , but they'd stopped knocking on each other's doors. They'd learned that there was such thing as going too far.

They could hurt each other.

She wasn't sure when they'd given each other that power.

And oh did he fight it. God, did he fight it. Every single time they were in each other's presence he fought it.

And then… then Katniss and Peeta came into their lives, and changed everything. All it really took was for the door to be opened, and suddenly Haymitch was caring about people left and right.

And he couldn't afford that type of foolishness.

So he'd convinced himself that she'd be safer in the Capitol, and she did nothing to change his mind.

She deserved what she was getting.

All those children she'd sentenced to death over the years… when death finally came she vowed that she'd welcome it with open arms.

Her only regret was not telling Haymitch she loved him, but the thought of his reaction was terrifying. And to think that he might have been forced into that God-awful position of having to say it back….

Not that he didn't love her. Of he course he did. He just didn't know he did.

He was so much like Katniss on some days that it was terrifying.

 _Katniss_.

Now there's a thought she couldn't bare to think about.

She could hardly think about Peeta.

Peeta, who was on the other side of Johanna's wall.

She kept Effie updated on Peeta's progress, and most of the time it was troubling. Extremely troubling. But Effie made Johanna promise not to tell Peeta that she was there. He didn't need to know.

He was under enough pressure.

And so was she.

Because Effie couldn't understand why Snow was keeping Peeta alive, except to torture Katniss.

Katniss, who was safe according to Johanna, but was probably losing her mind without Peeta.

That was why she knew they'd come and rescue him. And if they were going to rescue Peeta, they were going to rescue Johanna and Annie.

It was only a matter of time.

 **XxXxXx**

Effie could hear the screaming long before Peeta and Johanna were bought back to their cells.

Her body tensed when her door sprung open.

They were on her in seconds.

Her own screams caught in her throat at some point as their fists kept connecting with random parts of her body: her face, her chest, her ribs, her thighs.

She heard something pop, and snap, and then the world went black.

She welcomed the familiarity.

 **XxXxXx**

She learned that Peeta had warned Katniss about the bombing, and they were all punished for that.

Bombing, Oh dear God.

 _Haymitch_ , she thought.

And then… _Katniss_.

The fear was worse than the pain.

And the pain was unbearable.

Yet she breathed with relief when the rescue team came a couple of days later.

She knew exactly what was happening. They moved differently than the guards. Quicker. Surer.

They wouldn't reach her door. They had no reason to suspect. If Annie was first, and then Peeta, followed by Johanna, why would they come to her cell?

She prayed that they'd make it to their destinations safely.

Then she lied down, and welcomed death.


	31. Chapter 31

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Words: 2,490

Haymitch found himself mentally exhausted as the months went on. He'd kicked the habit of alcohol, but he'd never stop craving it. He itched for it as the days passed, and he never seemed busy enough to not think about it, even if it was far off in another corner of his mind.

When he had finally been able to leave Detox, he realized that his role of babysitter was far from over. Coin wanted him helping out with Katniss at all times since she had decided to be their Mockingjay.

Their first meeting didn't go so well.

"And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how a Revolution dies." He wasn't sure what he had expected, but he could live with her walking out on him.

Everyone else had at some point.

Plutarch had turned to him as if to say, "See, I told you so." Haymitch just shrugged. Plutarch had come to him earlier and said that his time in Detox was up and he needed to help Katniss be the Mockingjay because she was ridiculously bad at it.

He hadn't been lying.

So while Katniss sulked, Haymitch developed a plan.

The next morning they found themselves in a room together for the first time. She won't meet his eyes, but he could care less. He ushered his personal invites in: Beetee, Plutarch, Fulvia, and more.

"I want everyone to think of one incident where Katniss Everdeen genuinely moved you. Not where you were jealous of her hairstyle, or her dress went up in flames or she made a halfway decent shot with an arrow. Not where Peeta was making you like her. I want to hear one moment where she made you feel something real."

The answers came readily, and it didn't take long for his plan to register.

"Well, that's all very nice but not very helpful," Fulvia stated peevishly. "Unfortunately, her opportunities for being wonderful are rather limited here in Thirteen. So unless you're suggesting we toss her into the middle of combat—"

"That's exactly what I'm suggesting," said Haymitch. "Put her out in the field and just keep the cameras rolling."

Haymitch wasn't surprised when Coin and Plutarch agreed. He just wasn't sure if it was more so because they were desperate, or because they respected him. Granted Plutarch had stayed true to his word. He kept Haymitch informed, and he asked for his opinion.

But Coin never did.

He was still on the fence about this woman, and always had been.

He waved everyone away after asking to speak to Katniss alone. They had unfinished business, and this was never going to work if he didn't remind her that they were a team.

It was times like this he really missed Effie.

He glared at Gale as Katniss' 'bodyguard' finally ushered himself out—and what she saw in him he'd never understand. Peeta was ten times the man Gale could be on his best day.

But Haymitch supposed to he didn't have a lot of room to talk about recognizing or not recognizing what was right in front of you. He hadn't been so lucky in that department.

Pushing that thought aside he sat down across from Katniss, wondering how to best say what he was feeling.

What came out would have made Effie cringe.

"We're going to have to work together again. So, go ahead. Just say it." It wasn't kind or gentle, or even soft. It was real and raw, and straight to the point.

Haymitch wasn't sure what to expect. One could never tell with Katniss Everdeen. She could be an ice cream and a volcano, all at once. So he found himself surprised when all she said was, "I can't believe you didn't rescue Peeta."

And he replied with the only thing that seemed real. "I know." Because he _did_ know. For all their planning, nothing went right. They still lost the boy, and damn it, hurt. So they got their Mockingjay, but at what cost?

And they knew he was alive. Haymitch had been told about the propos the Capitol was taping. He knew that that was the reason she'd decided to be the Mockingjay.

But for her to be successful, she had to let go of the resentment, and he did too.

She seemed to be thinking along the same lines.

"Now you say it," she responded to him.

And he did. He said the very thought that he'd been thinking. "I can't believe you let him out of your sight that night."

She nodded, excepting his accusation.

It was both of their faults.

He wasn't sure a lot was solved. She still didn't trust him.

Which she proved by not listening to him when District 8 was attacked.

The anger, the rage, he felt, was paramount.

He wasn't even sure he was being logical. But perhaps holding it from Coin, and having to pretend he was okay with it, but the underlying fucking _fear_ that he felt when he thought Katniss was going to fucking _die_ , and the lack of alcohol in his system, undid him.

It shocked him, really, the amount of fear he felt when she stopped listening to him and had dismantled her earpiece.

Like it literally shocked him.

He realized he loved her.

She was a pain in the fucking ass. She proved it every fucking day. But damn it all to shit if he wasn't terrified that something would happen to her.

And not just because she was their damn Mockingjay, and her dying would make all of this fucking pointless.

It ran deeper than that, and he couldn't hide or shy away from it by crawling into a bottle, so naturally, he got pissed.

So yah, he might have been a tad bit vindictive when he visited her in the hospital, but he was sure he had gotten his point across.

So she was pissed.

Oh well. She'd live.

And that's all he wanted. Her to stay alive.

 **XxXxXx**

They asked him to go back to 12 with Katniss and Gale.

He opened his mouth, and all that came out was the day's lunch. Coin rolled her eyes but Plutarch looked sympathetic.

He had blatantly refused to think about two very distinct things: 12, and Effie. Both were off limits to him.

"I think you should go," Coin tried again.

"I couldn't face it without a bottle," was all he said, before walking off.

His hands had been shaking by the time he'd gotten to his room. He closed the door, locking it behind him, and stood against it.

He let the gasps consume him until he was lightheaded. He slid down the floor, trying to remember how to breathe, refusing to think about 12.

He couldn't face it. There was no way he could face it.

It bought back too many memories, of ash and bombs and death.

Like the memories of fire designed to destroy two houses, carefully constructed to burn, but not spread.

The fires that housed his mother and brother, and his girl, and the technology was too advanced for all of 12 not to know that the Capitol had orchestrated it.

He covered his eyes, refusing to think about it. He couldn't think about it.

He wouldn't go back.

They couldn't make him.

Katniss wanted so badly to do shit on her own. She could face this without him.

She had to.

 **XxXxXx**

Haymitch found himself in the room, along with Coin, Plutarch, Beetee, and Katniss, as they tried to overthrow Snow's own propo with their own.

He can see that going to 12 took a toll on Katniss, but he can't bring himself to ask her about the trip. The propo was proof enough that it went okay.

He'd just have to see for himself.

Only it wasn't 12 that had his insides churning. It was Peeta, who looked absolutely horrible, and the guilt started to eat away at him.

Fuck.

They should have gotten the boy.

Because Katniss wasn't the only who'd gotten under his skin.

Their eyes locked, and he saw his own dread mirrored in her eyes. He wished he were the type to give her a comforting smile, but he couldn't do that if his own life depended on it.

So instead, he watched, while the rest of the room cheered.

And this heart fell into his stomach. ""Katniss…how do you think this will end? What will be left? No one is safe. Not in the Capitol. Not in the districts. And you…in Thirteen…Dead by morning!"

The room had about three seconds of silence before the uproar began.

Haymitch stood frozen at the blood on the camera lens, and he swallowed back the desire to throw up everything he'd eaten that day.

Finally the chaos became too much.

" _Shut up!_ " Haymitch snapped loudly. "It's not some big mystery. The boy's telling us that we're about to be attacked. _Here_ in 13." Which proved their fucking President was smarter than he ever let on. The questions of doubt came all at once, and he growled. "They're beating him bloody. What more do you need?" He turned to Katniss then, their Mockingjay. "Katniss, help me out here."

She was still in the same spot, with the same look of horror on her face, and it takes her a minute, but she finally speaks. "Haymitch is right. I don't know where Peeta got the information, or if it's true, but he believes it is, and they're…." Katniss paused and Haymitch saw the fear in the girl's eyes. The same fear he felt in the pit of his stomach.

"You don't know him," picked up Haymitch to Coin. "We do. Get your people ready."

Ready, he realized, meant total and complete lockdown.

Katniss was with her family, and somewhere, way down deep, in the bitterest part of his soul, Haymitch realized that if they were to die tonight, she'd be dying with the people that she loved the most.

And he? He'd die just like he was now: in a bunker, completely and utterly alone.

He hadn't thought much about death over the years. He knew Snow wanted him alive. He had been made an example out of. And Haymitch would never be cowardly enough to slit his wrists or take some pills.

His bottle was his poison of choice, and he waited for it to kill him.

Every morning he woke up, still alive, he vowed that he'd just drink more.

And then Chaff came to him one night, and changed everything, so Haymitch drank just enough to make himself look like a consistent fool.

This thought of a Rebellion was something to look forward to, something to live for.

But now, as bombs blasted their way above them, and Haymitch realized that he just might die tonight, he didn't find himself thinking about ghosts. He didn't think of his mother, or brother, or girl, or of Chaff or Wiress and Mags. And he refused to think about the eight people who'd died at his own hands during his Games, or Masilee. And he damn sure wasn't going to think about the eight thousand people who died in 12.

No. If he was going to die tonight, he was going to think about Effie.

Effie Trinket, who had gotten under his fucking skin. He didn't even know _how_. What he _did_ know was that some time after her fifth year as his Escort, she had changed.

Not at all once. Gradually. And consistently enough for him to notice.

She was more patient. Kinder. Gentler. She cleaned up after him. Cleaned _him_ up. Laid out his clothes. Tied his tie. Held his hair. Buttoned his jacket.

And sometimes, late at night, when he was passed out drunk, he could smell her. He couldn't remember what she was doing. Sometimes he thought he'd feel her move his hair out of his face, or take off his shoes. And normally there'd be a blanket on top of him when he woke up, and a bucket next to him.

But he'd ignore it.

She was a fucking Escort, and there was no way she'd care.

Only she _did_ care, and it started to become obvious. And sometimes he wasn't drunk enough to not pick up on certain things.

Like how she hated picking the younger ones. She always cried hardest at their deaths.

And then he started to notice how she'd stopped crying.

Not like she stopped caring. But like she had gotten immune to it.

And then he started hearing her throw up at their deaths.

Over the years something had changed.

If he thought about it too hard, he might pinpoint the change to the night he found her on the couch, tipsy. They'd lost another Tribute, and he'd gone out to a bar with Chaff, and by the time he came back, he only had a few minutes left to get ready or he'd miss his train back to 12.

She'd stirred when he walked—or stumbled, rather—back into the Penthouse, and he had walked over to her. Why, he wasn't sure. It wasn't the first time he'd seen her tipsy over the years, but for some reason, she had seemed different.

"Get up and get to bed," he had told her.

"Are you about to leave?" asked Effie, because she had known him by then.

"Yah."

She had stood up, forgetting her open purse was in her lap, and all of the contents had fallen out.

She was slow to bend down and pick them up, being careful that she wouldn't fall over, and he saw them all.

Tiny blue pills, in tiny clear packages.

Everywhere.

He knew what they were. She'd offer some to him over the years, but he'd declined. They made it damn near impossible for him to wake up from the nightmares, and he definitely didn't want to be kept in one.

He must have taken a sharp breath because her eyes, glassy with drink, met his. He gave himself away by looking back at the pills.

She followed his gaze and her then whipped her head back up. Her eyes were instantly clear.

Without a word she put all of her contents back in her purse and walked away.

"See you next year, Haymitch."

And she was gone.

After that, there was no denying it.

Softer touches. Longer glances. Boundaries.

They'd never had that before.

So by the time the 74th Hunger Games had come around, and Cinna and Portia had come into their lives, he shouldn't have been all that surprised. He should have just welcomed her with open arms.

But he was glad he didn't.

Because when they announced his name as one of the many people who had died tonight, he didn't want it to hurt too badly for her.

And that was the craziest thing of them all: that he didn't want her to hurt.


	32. Chapter 32

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Words: 2,093

She learned that she hated the dark in the remaining months that followed.

She had never been afraid of it before. Being afraid of the dark was for children. But she'd never been so deathly afraid before. There was no longer anyone to talk to. No one to check on. No one to check on her.

It gave her time to do nothing but think.

All the time.

The fact that she was still alive concerned her.

They still bought her food. She was allowed one glass of water a day. They wanted her alive, and she didn't know why.

So one day she asked.

"It's obvious I don't know anything," she had said, her voice hoarse from lack of use. "Why haven't I been killed?"

"Because," said the guard. "We know how this will play out. Your little Mockingjay will overrun the Capitol at some point. We'll be long gone by then—we can see them coming a mile away—and then the Rebels will find you. And you, as an Escort, will await  
the fate you deserve. Because even though you're probably on their side, they won't see it that way."

And then he kicked her in the face, and she saw the blackness.

 **XxXxXx**

She started seeing people that were dead.

She took it as a sign that she was dying.

Chaff came first.

He was a surprise, because truth be told they weren't really friends, friends. They couldn't be. Her being seen with any Victor aside from Haymitch would raise a ridiculous amount of eyebrows. But she'd always been cordial, and he had been polite enough  
back.

The first time he'd ever really showed her that they were cool was on the elevator, the day he had flirted with her after she'd left the meeting that proved her alliance to the Rebellion.

Effie had assumed he'd known since the 74th Games. Cinna would have told him, like he'd told Plutarch. It only made sense. But still, they had kept their distance with each other. What else could they do?

So when she opened her eyes and saw him sitting in her cell, she was surprised.

Not surprised that a dead man was visiting her, because she had gotten used to that by now. Portia's body started hovering around, though the girl never said anything. She was sad. She had hoped the rescue team had seen Portia.

Chaff was the first real person she saw that spoke to her.

Well, as real as a dead person could be.

"You never struck me as a coward, Euphemia," he told her, and how he knew her real government was beyond her. She'd done her best to keep it quiet. Her own parents never used it. She certainly never did either. She didn't sign her name like that either.  
Even with contracts in regards to modeling or when she'd signed her name as an Escort, she was Effie.

Always Effie.

Nobody need to know how stupid of a name she had.

"Whatever do you mean, Chaff?" asked Effie politely.

"You're giving up."

"I'm accepting the fate that I deserve," Effie said plainly.

"You don't deserve this, Effie. Some people might think you do, but you don't. You're one of us."

"Nobody knows that, though."

Chaff stared at her. "Then live long enough to explain it."

Effie shook her head. "Do you know who I was named after?"

"Effie means 'fair speech," sighed Chaff.

"Not Effie. Euphemia." Chaff's eyebrows shot up. "She was a young Christian girl who refused to take part in sacrifices because of her faith." Effie smiled softly. "She was martyred."

Chaff nodded. "Ah. I get it. So you think you're supposed to die."

"It was never up to me. This is how it was supposed to end."

"Says who?"

"Me," Effie said simply.

Chaff shook his head. "That in unacceptable."

"That is rude."

"Maybe so. But it's right. You need to wake up."

"I am awake."

Chaff looked at her skeptically. "You're talking to a dead man, and before that, you've been seeing a dead girl floating around. You're definitely not awake."

Effie frowned and looked around.

She was definitely still in her cell, but she could see. It wasn't bright, but it wasn't pitch black either. And it was warm inside. Not hot, but warm. Pleasant, even, and not at all freezing cold like her real cell was. Her hair was perfect, not at all  
in its normal bad cut. And her body didn't hurt.

"It's so much nicer here," she murmured.

"But it's not real," said Chaff sadly.

"Real hurts," and she could feel the tears coming.

"There's a better ending in sight, Effie. You just have to make it to the finish line."

"I don't think I want to…."

"Stop thinking with your head, and feel with your heart."

He was starting to get hazy, and Effie realized she didn't want him to go.

"Chaff? Please stay."

"I'm not the one going anywhere. You are. And you're making the right choice."

When she felt the pain and the cold, and when she saw the pitch-blackness, she knew she was awake again.

She saw the platter of food and the glass of water but turned away from it.

She didn't want it.

She wanted to be dead.

 **XxXxXx**

They surprisingly survived the bombing.

And then Katniss had her break down, and everybody panicked.

They were in Command, and they were making suggestions as to what to do.

"Isn't it obvious?" Haymitch asked.

He'd spoken quietly—he was exhausted—but every eye turned to him.

"We need to rescue the boy."

Deathly silence.

"It's the only way."

The silence that followed was filled with covert looks, mostly between Coin and Plutarch.

"That could jeopardize everything," Coin said matter-of-factly.

"No shit," said Haymitch, rolling his eyes, and the President frowned at him. "But if we don't get that boy safely in Katniss' arms, there's no way she'll continue to be the Mockingjay. It's mental with her. She knows being the Mockingjay will cost him  
his life."

"And if he's already dead?" Coin asked coolly.

"The roses prove he's not," argued Haymitch. "It was a taunt. A warning." Coin looked towards Boggs for several moments. They whispered back and forth until Haymitch got tired. "Are you going to stand with Mockingjay, or not?"

Coin's eyes narrowed at him, and when she spoke, her words were clipped. "Unlike you, Kantiss isn't the only important person in my life. I have spent _years_ trying to take this man down. I'm not about to blow it on something as trivial, miniscule,  
and juvenile as young love." Haymitch felt his hatred for this woman grow. He'd never figured out _why_ he didn't like her. She had always just rubbed him the wrong way. "No decision comes lightly. And not one person is more important than everybody."

Plutarch seemed to know Haymitch was close to losing it. "I think we need to rescue the boy, too, Alma."

"Of course you do," she spat. "Haymitch has you wrapped around his finger just as tightly as Katniss is wrapped around his. The point is we're still going to vote on it. It's not a decision anybody should make lightly."

In the end, she was out voted.

She didn't seem happy about it, and as punishment, he wasn't allowed to go.

Yet the first to volunteer?

Gale Hawthorne.

Fuck.

To keep her distracted they do what they do best: film a propo that will hopefully distract Snow long enough for the team to make it in and out of the Capitol with not only their lives, but with their refugees as well.

Katniss goes first, talking about how she first met Peeta.

Then Finnick…. Finnick, the one Haymitch himself had even misjudged before finding out the truth. He delivered quite a few bombshells, talking of poison, roses, and conspiracies.

It made his blood freeze, how knowledgeable the young man. Things Haymitch had never known or suspected. And clearly Plutarch was at a loss for words, with the way he kept gasping in shock.

When it was finally over, and mostly everyone had gone inside, Katniss turned to him.

He'd wondered how long before she'd asked him. He'd expected it'd happen soon enough.

And still he wasn't prepared.

"Is that what happened to you?"

Haymitch almost, _almost_ , responds with, "I wish," because sometimes, that fate would seem much easier. But instead, he was honest with her. "No. My mother and younger brother. My girl. They were all dead two weeks after I was crowned victor. Because  
of that stunt I pulled with the force field," he answers. "Snow had no one to use against me."

He didn't see pity in her eyes, and he hadn't expected to. But he did see the anger, even if she didn't know it.

"I'm surprised he didn't just kill you," Katniss stated.

"Oh no. I was the example. The person to hold up to the young Finnick's and Johanna's and Cashmere's. Of what can happen to a Victor who caused problems."

And then it hit her. Not just what Snow was doing to Peeta, but _why_.

He leaves her with her thoughts, wishing more than ever he had a bottle.

Of course it was nothing compared to Peeta attempting to strangle Katniss.

And then Plutarch told him that Effie was missing.

He was sick.

Literally sick.

He couldn't make it to the bathroom quick enough, so he threw up right there, in the middle of the Command room, as Plutarch told him. They'd just watched Portia and her prep team get executed.

On live fucking television.

Plutarch turned to him, his face sullen. "We have a problem," he'd said.

"No shit," said Haymitch sarcastically. "Care to be more specific?"

Plutarch huffed, glancing at the screen, almost if he were waiting for someone else.

"Quick and to the point, Plutarch."

"Effie's missing."

He stayed stock still for several moments. He could feel Beetee's eyes on him, and Coin's but he didn't move.

And then he emptied his stomach.

Afterwards, his heart pounding, he grabbed Plutarch, when they were sure nobody else would be executed.

"How long have you known?" he asked darkly.

Plutarch gulped, which was answer enough. Haymitch felt the room start to spin, and he had to bite back the anger, because if he wasn't careful, Plutarch would be very dead, very soon.

"Find her. For fuck's sake, find her."

"We will," Plutarch assured him.

"You fucking better. Because you told me she was safer in the Capitol. And I swear to God, Plutarch—"

"Soldier, get yourself together," Coin finally said, and Haymitch turned to her so fast it was a miracle he didn't catch whiplash. "We have a meeting with Dr. Aurelius to talk to us about Peeta's condition. Sit down and behave."

He could kill her. He could kill them _all_ of them and not give a fuck.

"We'll find her, Haymitch," repeated Plutarch. "For now, let's worry about the matter at hand."

He dug his nails into Plutarch's flesh, a scowl on his face, his eyes blazing, but he let the Gamekeeper go.

"You better find her," he warned again, and sat down.

"Really? All this for an _Escort_?" asked Coin, and he shot her a filthy look.

Haymitch did his best to pay attention to the shrink. Dr. Aurelius was familiar. He'd tried to get inside Haymitch's head at the beginning of his Detox, but that hadn't lasted long. After two days he'd scared the head doctor away, to never return. He'd  
gotten a lashing from Plutarch for that, but after telling Plutarch that Dr. Aurelius wasn't Finnick, and Haymitch didn't feel sharing his fucking feelings and secrets, Plutarch had dropped it, and Aurelius had left him alone.

Listening to him now was a great distraction. Haymitch was hooked on every word as he listened to Dr. Aurelius explain that Peeta had been hijacked. His memories had been altered, and he was currently a major threat.

He'd been turned into a mutt, a pawn, in the Capitol's games.

Afterwards they gather all the right people so they can break down to Katniss.

He nearly jerks in his chair when Plutarch tells her that Effie is missing.

He gripped his chair, forcing himself to remain calm and swallow back the bile that's rising in his throat.

When it's decided that Katniss is going to go to 2, Haymitch declined.

He wanted to be around Plutarch every fucking second of every fucking day to make sure he was looking for Effie.


	33. Chapter 33

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Words: 2,118

Time passes.

Too much time.

No sign of Effie.

The only sense of comfort is that she hasn't been executed.

Yet.

Plutarch tries to keep him busy. Haymitch is forced to work with Peeta, who's royally pissed that Haymitch once again kept things from him. He tried to assure him that even Katniss didn't know, hoping that'd make it better, but it made things worse.

Mentioning Katniss always did.

Haymitch also had to consistently update Katniss while she was in 2, and in order for that to happen, he had to actually have some knowledge about what the fuck was going on.

He had to push Effie aside.

That is, until he was alone in his room at night.

And then Katniss got shot.

Fucking shit.

But Haymitch is literally going through the motions at this point

He's numb.

Everything was late nights and early mornings.

He vaguely remembered something about Finnick and Annie getting married. He might have even helped with the propo for it. He wasn't sure. He couldn't remember. A lack of sleep and the lack of alcohol and the fear… dear God the fear was taking over.

The only thing he vividly remembers is finally snapping at Katniss in regards to how she was treating Peeta. It was fucking ridiculous. He'd give anything, _anything_ to have any form of Effie, alive, and Katniss, once again, had no fucking clue how got damn lucky she was.

So he told her off, and hopefully it gave her something to think about.

By the time Katniss and Johanna finish their training, and Katniss goes off towards the Capitol, Haymitch is at his wits end.

They've got _nothing_ in regards to Effie. And he can't kill Plutarch because Haymitch knows the man's trying and is telling the truth.

Plutarch knows his life depends on it.

Haymitch had no comfort. He confided in no one. What would he say, and who would he tell? No one needed to know that he was slowly losing his mind, his grip on reality.

It was his fault.

He put his trust in someone else, which was mistake number one. There was a reason _he_ was the Mentor for Katniss and Peeta. It was the same thing in the Arena—trusting Katniss to keep Peeta close to ensure that Peeta would also be rescued was stupid. Obviously he was the only competent one in the whole fucking Rebellion.

And he _hated_ himself for fucking believing Plutarch. Haymitch should have just _asked_ Effie, damn it. And okay, no, she wouldn't have been happy here, but damn it he was Haymitch Abernathy. He'd have demanded she had immunity.

She'd fucking earned it.

And fuck anyone who couldn't see that.

He had exhausted himself in wondering where she was.

He literally had no clue. He wasn't sure Snow didn't have her, thought Haymitch figured Snow couldn't have her, because then he'd know how important she was, and Snow would have definitely executed her and told all of Panem that it was Haymitch's fault.

He stopped sleeping.

The nightmares were worse than ever, and without the bottle….

So many dreams of her hating him, which she'd have every right to, and of him killing her. Literally slicing her throat with his knife, or using Katniss' bow, or forcing her drink Snow's poison….

The guilt always ate at him.

He took his frustrations out on everyone because it was _his fault, damn it_.

He did this.

So he snapped at everyone, and gritted his teeth at every question that was asked of him, because he didn't _care_ anymore.

All he cared about was Effie.

And like he suspected, caring fucking hurt.

He was so stupid for caring.

Hadn't he learned that lesson years ago? Hadn't he gotten enough of that stupid emotion when he'd been woken up by persistent knocking, and being told that his family's house was on fire?

Because they hadn't moved into Victor's Village with him. They had tried, but his nightmares kept them up all night, and in the end he'd decided that he'd live alone.

He had no idea it'd be the beginning of his solitary confinement.

He lost track of how much time passed.

What he did know was that Peeta was sent to the Capitol.

It was the first time since being told that Effie was missing that he felt a fire in his veins.

He'd fought Coin tooth and nail about it.

For hours.

He lost it. He saw red. He said that the boy wasn't fit to travel, let alone battle, but for every argument, Coin had a counterargument. Their yells could be heard throughout all of 13.

And at the very end, when he thought he might have won, she had stared him in his face and said,

"Sorry, Soldier. It's too late. He's already gone."

He probably could have killed her. Would have, too, if her men hadn't seen him reach for his knife.

They "arrested him" and drug him to his room, where they stuck a needle in him.

Not before he punched two of them in the face.

He was out of it for twenty-four hours.

Twenty-four hours of constantly dreaming of Effie.

When he finally woke up he threw up.

For someone who was sober he seemed to be doing that _a lot_.

Plutarch was there, and he actually helped Haymitch clean up.

"You're going to end up killing yourself, or getting yourself killed."

"What do you care?" snapped Haymitch. "You lied to me."

"I didn't. I thought she was safer." He sounded tired of having the same argument. Haymitch was about to argue when he spoke again. "Damn it, you've seen it! Look at how they locked up Katniss' prep team! Effie would have awaited the same fate here."

"Over my dead body," Haymitch growled.

After that things were even more strained.

Time kept passing.

He kept going through the motions.

 **XxXxXx**

Plutarch knocked softly and then made his way into Johanna's hospital room. She was still under watch and care.

She looked at him and rolled her eyes. "What do you want, brainless?"

"Just to check in on you," said Plutarch.

"Bullshit. I'm not doing a propo. Fuck off."

Plutarch sighed. "Johanna, I'm sorry about—"

"Save your bullshit apologies for someone who cares. You just want good TV. You don't give a fuck about anyone but you. I bet you call up Caesar Flickerman for pointers on good TV."

Plutarch actually cringed.

"That's low, even for you."

"Whatever. When can I get outta here?"

"When I say so," Plutarch shrugged.

"Fine. But if Effie Trinket gets blown up on TV, I wanna know about it." Plutarch just stared at her. "What? Even if she was an Escort, she checked in on me and made sure I was alive after I was tortured. I wanna know if she's not okay."

Plutarch looked at her. "Are you telling me that Effie was in Snow's mansion?"

Johanna rolled her eyes. "God you really are fucking brainless. Get the fuck out of my room."

His heart hammering, Plutarch quickly made his way to Command.

 **XxXxXx**

"Can I ask you a question?" Johanna asked Haymitch a few days later. "I've been wanting to ask you for a while now but I wasn't sure if it was my place or not. Then I remembered I'm fucking Johanna Mason, and I don't give a shit. Plus the head doctors orders: I gotta say what I'm thinking."

Haymitch rolled his eyes. "What?"

"Why didn't you rescue your Capitol girlfriend?"

Haymitch just stared at Johanna. "What?"

"Effie, right? Capitol Barbie always wearing some blinding pink wig? Worshipped the ground you fucking walked on for some unknown reason. And it was obvious as shit you were into her too, which I didn't get at first, until Chaff told me she was a part of the Rebellion. Which brings me back to my original question: why didn't you rescue her?"

"I would if I coulda, wouldn't I have?" asked Haymitch, as he struggled to follow the conversation.

Johanna shrugged. "Guess it's none of my business, but the way Chaff described it, seemed like she was important. Kind of a big deal. I thought she'd deserve to be rescued. She was good as shit, though. I had no clue she was one of us." She shrugged again. "Guess she didn't fool Snow though, huh?"

Haymitch felt his heart drop. "Johanna… what the fuck are you talking about?"

She stared at him for a few moments. "Come off it Haymitch. I know you know."

"Know what?" He stayed deathly still.

"That Effie was captured. She was only a few doors away from me and Peeta. I heard his screams, Effie heard mine."

Haymitch dropped the plate of food.

"Stop being so dramatic. I know you knew, because Plutarch knows."

At that moment Haymitch snatched Johanna and pushed her against the wall, his forearm against her neck, making it nearly impossible for Johanna to breathe. Her eyes bugged as she clawed at him arm.

"What the fuck are you talking about, Johanna?" asked Haymitch, his eyes flashing.

Johanna's eyes widened. "Effiee was taken," she gasped out.

Haymitch pressed his arm harder into her. "Tell me you're fucking joking. Tell me you're just being Johanna Mason, a bitching pain in my ass." She shook her head as she was now unable to speak. She was turning red. "Effie was captured?" Johanna nodded.

Haymitch stared at Johanna for several moments, her face turning purple, before finally letting her go. She gasped and fell to the floor, coughing.

"Don't blame the fucking messenger."

Haymitch turned around, seeing red, and flipped over the table next to the door.

Johanna stared at him, shocked. "You really didn't know," she said softly.

Haymitch ignored her, and then the guard game in.

Without saying a word Haymitch made his way out.

 **XxXxXx**

Haymitch didn't knock. He just barged in, interrupting the meeting with twenty or so people, without a care in the world.

"You son of a bitch," Haymitch said when his eyes rested on Plutarch, and when Haymitch reached him he punched Plutarch in the eye. The he grabbed him and slammed him down on the table, his arms around his neck.

"Soldier!" Haymitch barely heard Coin's voice, but when she grabbed him he kept one hand on Plutarch's neck and turned around, pointing his knife at Coin's throat.

Every other soldier in that room grabbed their guns and pointed it at Haymitch.

Coin, very coolly, and very calmly, said, "Didn't anyone ever teach you not to bring a knife to a gun fight?"

The way she said it has his blood boiling.

Haymitch smiled darkly. "You ever seen my Games, Coin? Do you think any of these people scare me? Not in a million fucking years."

He removed his knife, pushed her out of the way, and turned back to Plutarch, who was gasping for air. "You knew Snow had Effie."

Plutarch shook his head, grabbing Haymitch's hand. "I only just found out," rasped out Plutarch.

"Johanna said you knew."

"I didn't know, Haymitch, I swear!"

"Bullshit! You were there watching the feed when they raided the Capitol."

"She wasn't on that list. Those soldiers wouldn't have gotten anyone who wasn't on that list."

" _Fuck_ the list," snapped Haymitch. "You would have seen her."

"And we didn't! I didn't, I promise."

"You mean to tell me you didn't recognize _anyone_ who looked remotely like Effie?"

"Well I don't know her body the way you do," and it was how coldly he said it that had Haymitch forcing the knife into the table, only an inch from Plutarch's face. "I'm sorry. I didn't meant that."

Haymitch pressed Plutarch's neck. "I want to go back and get her."

"Absolutely not," Coin interrupted. "We need you here, Soldier."

Haymitch finally let go of Plutarch and turned to Coin. "If you think," he said slowly and darkly, his voice cold and calculating, "for one second that there is one single life in this God-awful District, this District that doesn't even allow a man to drink in peace, is worth more than one Effie Trinket, not only you are sadly mistaken, but there is no throat I won't slit, no heart I won't stab, to prove to you how wrong you are."

Coin, who had paled considerably with each word, hardened her features, her eyes going cold. "We don't have the man power to send you back to the Capitol."

"I don't need anyone," said Haymitch angrily, already walking towards the door. "I work better alone. Apparently you can't trust allies."

His face set, Haymitch let them get back to their meeting, slamming the door behind him.


	34. Chapter 34

**I'm late, I know, I apologize. This story is definitely almost over! Only a few more chapters, and then an epilogue! It's been a journey!**

 **CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR**

 **Words: 2,324**

Haymitch pounded on Beetee's door and waited for several moments before the man opened the door. "I need you in the Control Room. Now."

Beetee asked no questions. He just followed Haymitch to the Control Room, the only noise the slight squeak of Beetee's wheelchair. When they made their way to the room Haymitch waited for Beetee to get them through the secure door, and then the two of them walked inside, Haymitch turning on the lights.

He turned to Beetee. "I need weapons. Knives preferably, but I could use a couple of guns, too."

Beetee stared at Haymitch for a few moments. "Care to tell me what's going on?"

"Not particularly," snapped Haymitch. "Just get me a couple of fucking knives, and a couple of fucking guns."

Beetee continued to stare at Haymitch, and then gave him a single nod. It didn't take long for Beetee to gather the weapons. He laid them out and allowed Haymitch to take his pick. Haymitch took three different knives and two guns, hiding his favorite knife beneath an extra jacket. He placed the other ones in his bag, noting the way Beetee was watching him closely.

"Tell Coin I threatened you for all I fucking care," barked out Haymitch. "Just don't tell her anything until she asks."

"My loyalties always have been and always will be with the Mockingjay. Which, by extension, means my loyalties lie with you. I don't know what's going on, but I hope you come back safely."

Haymitch stared at Beetee. The two of them weren't necessarily friends—they ran in different circles, even as allies. He was an excellent person to have on their side, though, and the two had grown somewhat close since the Quarter Quell.

Haymitch acknowledged Beetee's statement with a slight nod, and left the Command Room, his bag in his hand. He then made his way to Captain Grandis' room. It took Grandis a little while longer than Beetee to open the door, but as it was the middle of the night, Haymitch tried to keep his patience. When Grandis finally opened the door, Haymitch tried to hide his annoyance.

And fear.

Because he was wasting time.

"I need one of your best pilots to meet me in Command in ten minutes," Haymitch said.

Grandis blinked at him. "What?"

"You heard me. Ten minutes, Soldier."

"Abernathy—"

Haymitch snapped and grabbed Grandis, slamming him against his own door, realizing that he was slowly starting to lose control. "I don't fucking repeat myself, Solider. Nine minutes."

He let the man go before he did something really stupid like snap his neck, and walked away.

He was shaking as he waited for the pilot.

For the first time it had nothing to do with lack of alcohol.

 **XxXxXx**

His next stop was to Mrs. Everdeen. She was awake, which wasn't surprising.

"Peeta's still not doing that well," she said immediately, and Haymitch shook his head.

"I'm not here for that right now." His voice was actually cold. He told himself to calm down and reminded himself that Peeta was someone he actually cared about. He cleared his throat. "I need to know which nurse—emphasis on nurse—you actually trust in 13."

Mrs. Everdeen blinked at him. "Trust?"

"One who doesn't really like Coin, but supports Katniss."

"You mean other than Prim?" Mrs. Everdeen deadpanned.

"Yes," said Haymitch curtly.

She paused for a few moments. "I think I know someone. There's one girl. Aria."

"Go and wake her, and tell her to go to the North Command Room."

"What's going on?"

"Just do it," he said, making his way out.

 **XxXxXx**

While Haymitch waited for his pilot to load up, he stared at Plutarch. The man had found him on his way back, telling him that he wanted to help. "Are we clear?"

"Yes," nodded Plutarch.

"I don't care what Coin says."

"Haymitch, you're my _friend_ ," Plutarch said. "I'll make sure you're safe. I'll get Beetee in here. I'm not having you go in blind."

"Fine. Beetee's already up." If Plutarch was surprised, he didn't let it show. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Haymitch started to leave when Plutarch called after him. "What if… what if you can't find her?"

Haymitch stared at Plutarch. "You mean what if she's already dead?" Plutarch nodded and Haymitch stared at him darkly. "Then heads will fucking role, and Katniss will have to fight me in killing Snow."

 **XxXxXx**

The plane ride was intense. Grandis' man, Baron, was a right pain in the ass. Haymitch had to threaten to write him up for insubordination, which seemed to be the magic word. He quickly got into shape after that.

Until he told Baron that they were flying into the Capitol.

He almost crashed the plane.

"Fucking relax. We got eyes with Plutarch and ears with Beetee."

"Are you fucking _insane_? This will never work."

"Snow's not expecting us to be there anymore. We've gotten everybody that he thinks is important."

"So what the hell are we going for?"

"Because Snow is wrong," Haymitch said darkly, and left it at that.

 **XxXxXx**

With Beetee and Plutarch's help they made it to the Capitol without incident.

That didn't mean the plane ride wasn't intense.

Beetee and Plutarch advised them where to land. It was several miles away from the Capitol, and he'd have to make the rest of the trip on foot. He was okay with that. "Aria, with me," he said, grabbing his bag. He turned to Baron, his face set. "You leave, with or without this plane, without us, I will find you, and I will kill you."

Baron nodded, and Aria and Haymitch left.

"You know how to use a gun?" he asked her.

"Yes," responded Aria without hesitation. He handed her his bag.

"Take your pick." She grabbed them, feeling them out, and deciding on one. She kept it in her hand, at her side, the safety off, and Haymitch found himself impressed. With her medical bag on her shoulder, they headed off towards Snow's mansion.

He thanked God for Effie the minute he pulled out those night vision goggles she'd given him. After telling Aria it was going to be a long night, they headed off.

He kept his eyes and ears open, alert, listening for anything and everything. Beetee was his eyes, and had farther vision than him, and he kept whispering in Haymitch's ear that they were fine for the time being.

The bad thing about it being so late was that there was no one to blend in with—if they could blend in. The good thing is that no one would be able to stop them if they were spotted, as they definitely looked out of place.

They walked for a couple of hours, and Haymitch had to give Aria credit. She never once complained. She kept her mouth shut and followed him without question, Effie's compass also becoming useful.

"I know where we are now," Haymitch told Aria. They had mostly walked in silence up until now.

Aria looked around. "How can you tell?"

"I've mapped out this city enough times to know it by heart. Snow's mansion is that way." He pointed north. "They'll be in a building close to the mansion. I don't want you to follow me. It's too dangerous. When I contact you, all you'll have to do is walk straight down, about three blocks. You can't miss it. In about thirty minutes I want you to make your way to that building to the left. It'll be open to the public by then. Wait for me to contact you, okay?"

Aria nodded.

"Be careful," she whispered.

He nodded. He rummaged around for a knife. "Don't be afraid to use that gun, but I'd rather you use a knife. I don't want any reason to draw attention to you."

With that, he was gone.

Plutarch guided him as Beetee started to infiltrate the building's security systems. He kept one ear open in order to hear his surroundings, but as it was the middle of the night, he didn't come across any problems.

When he was about one block away, Haymitch got the okay from Beetee.

"All security cameras will replay the same feed." Beetee's slow, deep, reassuring voice played in Haymitch's one ear. "Whatever you do in live time won't be seen."

"Well done, Beetee. Thanks."

And with that, Haymitch clicked off.

He didn't want anyone to know what he was about to do.

It didn't take Haymitch long to encounter the first guard. He pushed the man against the wall, immediately covering his mouth to drown out the scream as Haymitch's knife pierced through his flesh.

Haymitch had moved on before the man even hit the ground.

It was easy. Too easy, really.

Over a dozen men, killed in about fifteen minutes.

Haymitch knew where to go. He still remembered the layout from memory.

He was almost there.

He was on alert, and it was a good thing, too, because he would have been caught off guard otherwise at the man coming towards him. Haymitch got hit in the face so hard that he saw stars, but he still had time to knock the guard out. Haymitch slit his throat and grabbed the gun off of the man's suit.

He kept walking.

 **XxXxXx**

Haymitch bent down and took the keys off of the guard, and with trembling, bloody hands he opened up the door, terrified at what he might find.

When he opened the door he stopped.

The cell was dark, and smelled like death.

Literally like death.

He looked around, noticing the untouched tray of food, wondering how long it'd been there. There was a full glass of water next to the tray. The cell was cold, freezing cold, and so dark that Haymitch immediately started rummaging around for a flashlight in his bag.

He noticed the Mockingjay wig pinned to the wall and his eyes fluttered closed.

She'd pledged his allegiance to them after all.

He bet she hadn't even made it out of the Penthouse before they had come for her.

He moved the flashlight around until he found her. It didn't take long.

She was there. In the corner of the cell.

Deathly still.

He approached her—slowly, swallowing hard, taking in all that he could: her chopped off hair, growing back unevenly, her marred skin, her tattered gold dress. It was ripped in a lot of places, and he felt the anger consume him.

It took him several tries before he actually found his voice and was able to call her name.

When he saw her move he immediately bent down.

He was afraid to touch her.

He pulled his communication out. "Aria," he said.

"I'm here," responded the girl. "I want you to get to this building as quickly as you can."

"Okay."

"Follow the trail of bodies. I'll meet you." He cut away transmission and waited a few minutes, staring at Effie's cowering figure, his heart in his throat.

She was alive. That's all that mattered. One step at a time. He kept repeating that as many times as it took for his heart to catch up with what it is his brain was saying.

He left the cell, keeping his knife in his hand, though he didn't think he'd be met with any more resistance. He found Aria halfway through, her medical bag in hand. She stared at him, shocked.

"I was just reminded how you won your Games," she told him, and he shot her a look.

They walked the rest of the way back in silence.

Aria immediately went towards Effie, her supplies in hand. She checked for a pulse and Effie moaned. Haymitch was next to her in a second, nearly throwing Aria aside.

"Effie?" he said softly.

She blinked up at him, her eyes foggy, and he saw it, the quick flicker of recognition, and then her eyes were rolling back into her head. Her cheeks were puffy, her eye swollen, her lips chapped.

He whimpered and Aria took that as her cue to start checking out Effie.

"She's dehydrated," Aria said. "She's been tortured. Badly. But not recently. Probably not for a few months."

Since the rescue team had broken in.

"Her bruises haven't been tended to. Her ribs are definitely cracked. Her collarbone is broken. There's blood everywhere." Aria looked at him. "There's no way we can travel back to 13 while she's in this condition. No way at all, Haymitch. She won't make it from here to the door."

Haymitch felt the room start to spin.

"We need to find something closer."

Haymitch turned back on his communication. Before he could say anything Plutarch spoke. "Katniss and her team are in the Capitol, as are the rest of the Rebels. The Capitol's about to be taken."

Haymitch's mouth dropped open. It'd been a few hours since he'd last talked to them, but _damn_.

"We're on our way. Where are you?"

"I just found Effie…." He paused. "It's bad, Plutarch."

"I have a contact I can reach out to who works at a hospital. We need to get her underground, because when Snow finds out what's happening…."

"I know," nodded Haymitch.

"Can she move?"

"Aria doesn't think so."

Plutarch cursed. "Katniss and her team will be a distraction." He didn't sound convinced, but Haymitch went along with it. "Try and stay put. I know you. Do what you have to in order to stay alive until help comes."

Haymitch didn't like it. They were sitting ducks here, but they had no choice.

"I'll do what I can for her while we're here," Aria said, and Haymitch nodded, sitting down. He grabbed Effie's hands—bloodied and bruised—and held it.

She didn't move.

He kept his eyes trained on the door, his gun in his hand.

The knife would be no good at this point.


	35. Chapter 35

**SORRY FOR THE DELAY! I will go back to posting regularly. Enjoy the last few chapters =)**

Chapter 35

Words: 2,357

With Plutarch's help Haymitch learns that most people are going about their business as usual in the Capitol. That doesn't surprise him in the least. Snow was an idiot and would probably pretend that all was well in the city, causalities be damned.

Haymitch couldn't care less. As far as he was concerned him, Effie, and Aria were sitting ducks here, and they wouldn't last too much longer. It was still early yet, and Katniss and Peeta were currently hiding out in Tigris' shop, which was all good and fine, but if they didn't have a plan soon, and cause a diversion, Haymitch didn't stand a chance.

His only hope was that only one guard would come down here at a time, but if the guards called for each other and the dead ones didn't respond… it only made sense to come down here and check out what was going on. He had no idea what the guard's schedules were or how long it would take before their shifts changed but they would run out of luck soon.

After a few hours Haymitch had gone back and hidden the bodies in a single cell. He thought it might alert people if dead bodies were just lying on the floor. He told Aria to shoot whoever she had to but he didn't end up staying gone that long.

His adrenaline was still pumping.

Something must be wrong because no one comes for Effie. Either they think she's dead or Snow has bigger fish to fry. Turns out it's the latter. Plutarch tells him that the rebels are getting closer and closer to taking the Capitol, that it is being shown on live television and that Snow is telling people they have to take refugees and that he's opening their home to citizens.

Aria gasps at the news but Plutarch reminds then that if Snow is the _President_. "He's making speeches and he's trying to keep people calm. Trust me, the last thing on his mind is Effie Trinket."

That was a relief, but the only thing on Haymitch's mind _was_ Effie.

They lose track of time. Haymitch starts to get antsy. If he could risk moving Effie….

Only Aria is against it, she refused in fact, and Haymitch tells her they can't stay here _forever_ —

They're in a middle of an argument when everything shakes. Haymitch immediately thinks _bombs_. He shields Effie and pulls Aria towards him. Aria screams and screams and screams and doesn't calm down no matter what Haymitch says. He thinks about hitting her but stops short of it when a part of the ceiling falls on his head.

Darkness envelops him.

 **XxXxXx**

He isn't knocked out for too long, nor is he in a lot of pain. He realized that Aria had calmed down well enough to fix him up, though her hands shook. He's about to thank her when the door burst open.

Haymitch jerked, Aria screamed, and Haymitch nearly shot the person running through the door. What saved the person barging through the door was the familiar grey soldier's uniform and the Mockingjay pin on his breast.

"Come on," the man said. "We need to get you three to safety."

 **XxXxXx**

Haymitch grabbed the first bottle he saw and drank until he could no longer think anymore. He didn't second guess himself, he didn't think twice about it. He _needed_ it, he needed something to stop it all.

Effie wasn't getting better. They'd taken the Capitol but the Capitol had once again taken everything from him.

He blamed himself more than anything. This was _his fault_. He must have slipped at some point. It's the only thing that made sense. Why else would she have been taken? She was a Capitol citizen, that should have protected her.

But she had been _his_ Escort. They were a _team_ , and he forgot that. He forgot that her citizenship wouldn't protect her, not when her Mentor was a Rebel and her Tributes were Rebels and her stylists were Rebels…. The whole dame team was full of Rebels, _of course_ she'd be taken and how could he have been so blind, so _stupid_ to think otherwise?

How had _he_ , Haymitch Abernathy of all people, put that much faith in the bloody Capitol?

The guilt consumed him and all he could think about was drowning himself in a bottle.

He stayed by her side for three days without sleeping.

He couldn't sleep even if he wanted to. He kept seeing her face.

She was in bad shape. Really, _really_ bad shape. She was currently doped up on morphine and she'd had to have mandatory surgery. The things those men had did to her….

They hadn't wanted him to see her file, but he was Haymitch Abernathy, and there was nothing that would stop him. He tried to be patient at first, he asked politely, he pleaded, he damn near begged. When that didn't work he waited until the night shift and he fought for those files, knocking out whoever he had to.

He wished he hadn't.

His hand shook with fury and then all he saw was red, and for the first time in three days he made his way from that hospital so he could just fucking _breathe_. He found himself at Snow's mansion along with everyone else and now he was drinking to his heart's content until he couldn't feel anymore.

At some point he blacked out.

When he woke up he remembered _Effie_ first, and then _Prim_.

He finds another bottle.

He knows he's being selfish, that he should check in on Effie and Katniss, but everything was just shit and sometimes drinking was a better option.

How was he supposed to face her? What the fuck could he say? He imagined her being doped up on morphline and being treated for her burns was the best thing for her. It'd be her last moment of peace.

Haymitch hoped that she coped better than he did. She was a lot like him in more ways that he could count, but he hoped she was stronger than him. He _needed_ her to be stronger than him.

The room was spinning slightly when Plutarch came in, looking grim.

His heart sank.

Oh no. No, no, no, no, no.

Did she die? She couldn't have died. Please, anything but that.

 _Anything_ but that.

What Plutarch told him made him realize that he should really be careful what he wished for.

 **XxXxXx**

She was heavily sedated when he saw her. He approached her bed and immediately slipped his hand into hers. Her eyes fluttered and finally flickered open.

A trace of recognition was present in her eyes, briefly, and then they were closed again.

But she gently squeezed his hand back.

 **XxXxXx**

He couldn't find the nerve to tell her so he finally went and visited Katniss. He'd have to be the one to tell her about Prim, that duty was already given to him as her mother was inconsolable.

Utterly, totally, completely inconsolable.

Haymitch is unsure if Katniss really _hears_ him when he tells her, she's so in and out of it, but he doesn't repeat himself. It's the coward's way out and that's just what it has to be.

She'll have to figure it out on her own.

He spends most of his time checking on Effie and drinking.

She doesn't hate him, and he thinks that's even worse. It's her undeniable need to continue to trust him. And it's the fact that she's slightly in denial about what happened. Not totally. She cries sometimes, but then she claims she's okay.

Things shift when he finally tells her what she has to do.

"Coin's going to need you to prep Katniss when it's time for Snow's execution."

Effie jolts horribly, her face shocked, and she looked at him as if she can't believe what she's hearing.

 _He_ can't believe he's saying it.

"Princess, I did everything, _everything_ to try and talk her out of it. She won't budge. Right now she's claiming it's the only thing that'll save your life."

Effie inhaled sharply. "They want to kill me?"

" _She_ wants to kill you."

Effie stared at him unblinkingly for several moments. "Tell me, Haymitch. How is this woman any different from Snow?"

Haymitch didn't hesitate. "She isn't."

 **XxXxXx**

Haymitch stumbled his way to where they were holding Snow. Commander Paylor is there, and she eyes him warily.

"I won't touch him," Haymitch promised immediately.

"We all want a piece of him, and I get the feeling you'll have your chance at revenge."

"What do you mean?" asked Haymitch.

"Snow didn't order that bomb to fall. Coin did."

Haymitch froze and stared at the dark-skinned woman. He imagined she was pretty, her skin was smooth, and her eyes held a softness and warmth that reminded him of Cinna.

"How do you know that?"

"Gale told me. When Katniss figures it out… she'll go for Coin."

Haymitch eyed her. "Did you warn her?"

Paylor looked him dead in his eye. "Hell no. And I have no plans to do so."

Haymitch left without having his one-on-one time with Snow.

 **XxXxXx**

It was more torturous than he thought, waiting for Snow's execution. The days were actually a blur. He remembered Johanna coming in to drink with him one night. They toasted to Finnick and Chaff, and for the first time ever he saw Johanna cry.

"Annie's pregnant," was the last thing he remembered her saying, and he went and searched for every single bottle he could find and together they finished what they could until they were piss face drunk.

It hurt.

All of it hurt _so badly_. He lost count of how many times he asked himself it was worth it. It _wasn't_. None of it was. Effie was practically out of her mind. Katniss was mute with grief. Mrs. Everdeen buried herself in her work. _He_ was a drunk. Coin was power hungry. Chaff, Finnick, Seeder… all of them were _dead_.

It wasn't worth it.

None of it was worth it.

He was truly broken, and he didn't think he'd ever come out of it.

 **XxXxXx**

He figured he had lost Effie the minute he walked into her room with a duffle bag full of her things. The betrayal evident in her eyes was the only emotion he'd seen since she recognized him.

"Plutarch went to your place and grabbed a few things," Haymitch told her.

She let him help her get dressed, though she was quiet the entire time. He watched her apply her makeup, her hands shaking. The makeup expertly covered up every bruise. No one would be able to say or suspect that she was anything but perfect under all that powder, under that mask, save for those vacant eyes. She looked remarkably like she always used to with the gold wig atop her head, and had to swallow the lump in his throat at the fact that her dress was way too big for her.

She was _tiny_.

When she was finished she turned to him. "Tell me you don't still see me like this. Please."

Haymitch's eyes widened. "Of course not." He started to step up to her but she stepped away from him. He felt his heart sink.

"I'm not _her_ anymore, Haymitch. This woman died long before she was in that cell, and I _really_ hate having to do this."

"I'm tryna keep you alive."

"It's funny how that always seems to nearly kill me in the process," she stated coldly, and then she walked passed him and headed out of her hospital room.

Chin up, shoulders back, smile on.

He went to his room and drank.

When Katniss came into his room saying she needed his help, and he hit her with that "More boy trouble?" line he cringed. He could see the betrayal in her eyes, and he hated himself for his ability to hurt the people he cared about.

It was a low blow, even for him, and he _tried_ to apologize, only he fell flat on her face.

He deserved to.

He was a mean drunk, he'd _always_ be a mean drunk, he was pathetic like that. It was why he was better off alone, so he couldn't hurt people and people couldn't get hurt on his behalf.

He was _tired_ of hurting.

Everything hurt, all the time.

 **XxXxXx**

Haymitch sat around the table and looked at Coin, his heart thumping with hate. He _hated_ her, almost as much as he hated Snow. He thinks he hates them equally when she proposes,

"So, an alternative has been placed on the table. Since my colleagues and I can come to no consensus, it has been agreed that we will let the victors decide. A majority of four will approve the plan. No one may abstain from the vote," says Coin. "What has been proposed is that in lieu of eliminating the entire Capitol population, we have a final, symbolic Hunger Games, using children directly related to those who held the most power."

The room is silent at first, a stunned disbelief echoed in everyone's faces.

Everything is confirmed for Haymitch in that moment, why he has hated Coin so much.

She is no different, he thinks.

"Was this Plutarch's idea?" Haymitch had to ask, he had to be sure, he had to truly _know_.

"It was mine," says Coin. "It seemed to balance the need for vengeance with the least loss of life. You may cast your votes."

He is silent as the others vote, his heart hammering. All he can think about, once again, is none of it ever being worth it.

She wanted the chair she always wanted the chair.

"I vote yes… for Prim."

Jerking Haymitch looked up and met Katniss' stare. He knows everyone's waiting on him, but the two of them, probably for the first time in _months_ , understand each other again.

His Katniss. His dear, sweet, amazingly strong Katniss.

"I stand with the Mockingjay." His eyes never waver from her, and he knows that she knows.

That means Snow is _his_.


	36. Chapter 36

**There's a moment between Plutarch and Haymitch that stemmed from the movie. When Katniss shoots Coin, Plutarch sort of had this smirk on his face, he kind of chuckled, so it made me think that maybe he knew what was going on, which is why I wrote it this way.**

 **Also, a passage in this chapter is from my one-shot "Letting the Arrow Fly," which is found in chapter 119 (Dribble, Drabble) in Loosen Your Corset, Princess."**

 **Lastly, this chapter is kind of dark. There is a kill scene, but it's not too graphic or detailed.**

Chapter 36

Words: 2,209

They don't have a lot of time, but before they part, before they head out to do the deed, Katniss tells him, barely moving her lips,

"I demanded Effie be given immunity," and then she was gone.

 _He_ was dumbfounded, so startled that he stopped in the middle of walking, nearly causing Johanna to bump into him.

Not caring he made his way to Effie's as fast as he could.

She is still dressed in her outfit, still looking utterly ridiculous, and now she is with Katniss' prep team. He dismisses them and they leave, leaving the two of them alone.

"They tell me you saved my life," she stated, and her voice isn't cold anymore, but still reserved. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I was the reason you were there. It was my job to get you out."

She looked at him, really looking him over. She stepped up to him, grabbing his hands and staring at his bruised knuckles. "Did you kill them?"

Haymitch wouldn't lie to her. "Every single one of them, yes."

She nodded. "I think deep down I knew that."

"Do you hate me?"

Effie didn't immediately answer. "I do not like you very much right now," she finally confessed.

He inhaled sharply.

"I _understand_ why. But between the Games and the bombing that killed poor Prim… I cannot say I am in a place to condone violence right now, Haymitch, even for me. Violence killed Cinna. I heard Portia being killed. All of them, Johanna, Peeta, Annie… violence did this to us."

"That's why I had to—"

"There are other choices," she snapped out. "There _has_ to be. I _have_ to believe that, Haymitch, or I will never recover." She took a shaky breath and finally looked at him again. "Why are you here?"

Haymitch swallowed thickly. "Katniss… she demanded you have immunity. Your life will be spared."

Effie gave him an ironic smile. "Pity. I have wanted to be dead for such a long time."

"Do you think you'll ever forgive me?"

Again, she paused. "I think… one day I will. I am quite unsure how soon one day will get here."

"Soon enough to come back with me to Twelve?"

She blinked at him. "Do not hold your breath."

 **XxXxXx**

He didn't have a lot of time drink away his sorrow.

So Effie practically hated him. He should be used to it.

Only he _wasn't_ used to it.

Effie _loved_ him, damn it, and he'd taken it – taken _her_ – for granted, but he was _selfish_.

He thought saving her would make everything right, and he realized that even in saving her he was being selfish. He had thought she'd be grateful, he had hoped that she would fall into his arms and that all would be forgiven, but that wasn't the case.

Fortunately, he didn't have a lot of time to dwell on it. Plutarch needed him and he had to make sure Coin didn't suspect anything was off. As far as she was concerned they were all on one accord about there being another Hunger Game.

Before they made their way into the room Haymitch stopped Plutarch. He couldn't decide if they were _friends_ or not. _Chaff_ was his friend. Mags, Johanna, Finnick… _those_ people were his friends. But Plutarch was his colleague, at the very least a friendly one, so he had to know.

"It was Coin's idea to drop the bomb in the Capitol," he said. Plutarch froze, his mouth open. Haymitch exhaled. He hadn't known. "And she wants another Hunger Game."

Plutarch shut his mouth and blinked, shaking his head. "That's impossible. Everything we've worked for was to _end_ The Hunger Games."

"Yah, well, it was voted on. When Coin's elected, that's what'll happen."

Plutarch looked at Haymitch. "Did you vote for it?" Haymitch didn't answer. Plutarch stepped closer to him. "Tell me, did you think about Effie when you cast your vote? Because she's who would have been affected."

"All this is dependent on if Coin gets elected," Haymitch reminded him, and Plutarch blinked.

"What are you not telling me, Haymitch?"

Haymitch gave Plutarch a small smile. "You're gonna get a hell of a show today. If I were you I'd tell Cressida to make sure her camera stays on Katniss at all times."

 **XxXxXx**

He watched her walk, his heart hammering painfully in his chest. Everything they'd ever done depended on this moment. For the past twenty-five years he'd been waiting for this to happen, and a part of him wished it were him pulling the arrow.

All eyes were glued to Katniss, the crowd quieting down instantly at her appearance. She looked fierce, and fearless, and he found himself partially proud of her.

He hoped this moment didn't destroy her.

He looked at her, like everyone else in the crowd was doing, and thought about how much weight she had on her shoulders. They were all counting on her, not just her friends and family, not even just Panem. Those who had died for this cause were counting on her too. Those who had suffered.

Cinna.

Portia.

Finnick.

Chaff.

Mags.

 _Prim_.

And Effie.

He tried not to think of Effie. Effie, who he had cornered before they all made their way to Snow's execution, and told her to head to Plutarch's as soon as Katniss' arrow flew.

Things were going to get hectic, he knew, especially if Katniss was going to do what he thought she was going to do. He'd grabbed Effie and told her sternly that no matter what happens, no matter what Katniss does, she needed to head to Plutarch's and lock herself in the room, _no questions asked_.

She'd seemed to understand that something big was about to happen, even if she was dazed and confused and upset with him.

He'd stared into those vacant blue eyes, the eyes that used to be lit with a fire that he could never match, though they had always provided their own spark into his, trying to will her to understand, and she had nodded.

He kept his eye on Effie as the crowd quieted down, but she seemed to only have eyes for Katniss. So did everyone else. Haymitch suspected he probably should have been focusing too, but he'd spent too much damn time _not_ focusing on Effie Trinket.

It was dangerous, having her here, but Coin was vindictive.

Still, she'd get hers, he knew.

That thought had him glancing away from Effie, in her gold wig and tattered dress, and focusing on their Mockingjay. He held his breath, blood still pounding in his ears.

This was it.

Katniss was fierce, he realized. Fiercer than he'd ever given her credit for, and he hoped they'd all survive this when it was over. He kept a close eye on her, saw the way she drew back her bow, Snow her target.

He wasn't sure anyone else would catch it beforehand. He only caught it because he'd been watching her bow, not her, wondering if his assumption had been correct.

The second it shifted, Haymitch held his breath, his mind immediately going to Effie. He didn't have time to glance at her again. He wanted to will her to safety, but she'd have to make it there herself.

 _Get to Plutarch's_ , he thought, hoping she still had the ability to hear his thoughts.

He wouldn't have time to shield Effie. He had the unfortunate responsibility of always having to choose the Mockingjay over her, and it was no different in this moment, right here, right now, as she let her arrow fly through Coin's skull.

 **XxXxXx**

The reaction was immediate, the roar unmistakable. Residents of Thirteen were furious, the crowd was confused, but at the end of the day Coin lay dead and all Haymitch could hear was Snow's laughter.

Somewhere in the distance he could hear Katniss calling for Gale to shoot her. He looked up and could see the rebels dragging her away. He had never for one second thought that she'd be able to kill herself. She would have, he had no doubt about that, but Peeta wasn't going to let that happen.

And Gale wasn't going to shoot her, either.

Haymitch set his sights on Snow, who had been knocked down from the crowd. He bypassed the people, running around in chaos, and approached the man spluttering on the ground.

He dropped low and turned Snow around so that they were face to face.

Snow's eyes widened slightly as they connected with Haymitch's, and for the first time since Haymitch had known Snow, he saw fear flicker in his eyes when the former president noted the knife in Haymitch's hand. Without saying a word Haymitch started undoing Snow's jacket and shirt.

Haymitch smiled darkly, their eyes locked, and he sunk his knife into Snow's stomach. The older man gasped and Haymitch watched his face scrunch up in pain.

" _That_ was for my mother."

He took the knife out and slid it back into Snow, this time on his side. " _That_ was for my brother."

Snow coughed, his eyes rolling back, but Haymitch didn't let it deter him. He went to Snow's other side. "This is for Nova."

Snow moaned as blood started to seep out of his body. Haymitch wasn't quite finished with him yet, so he pushed his knife into another soft spot in Snow's stomach. "And that one was for Maysilee."

Snow's eyes bugged as Haymitch took the knife back out.

Haymitch's heart was pounding furiously in his chest as he forced the knife into Snow's heart. Haymitch bent down and whispered in Snow's ear, even as Snow's body went rigid. "And that last one was for Effie."

When he sat back up Snow had blood pouring out of his mouth. Haymitch removed the knife and proceeded to button Snow's shirt back up. Then he buttoned up his jacket and brushed Snow's hair out of his face.

"Enjoy hell," Haymitch said, and then he stood up and walked away. He dropped the knife at some point, his vision blurry.

He could have killed him. He could have slit his throat but Effie would have hated him even more. Sure he might have sped up his death, but he didn't deliver the murderous blow.

He made it all the way to his room before throwing up.

 **XxXxXx**

Haymitch felt mentally drained. So much was going on….

Peeta had had another flashback and was immediately taken to the hospital, though he couldn't really get treatment because Katniss needed Dr. Aurelius. Katniss' trial too up most of his time, and when he wasn't in that courtroom he was defending Effie, whose immunity had been demolished once Katniss pulled her little stunt and killed Coin.

It was being argued that maybe Katniss hadn't been in her right mind when she had told Coin that.

Haymitch and Plutarch argued on Effie's behalf. They had arrested her a few hours after Katniss had been arrested and Haymitch found out too late – _again_. He'd been _furious_ , absolutely manic with anger and demanded that she be released.

Commander Paylor suggested letting her go but keeping her under house arrest, and she was allowed to stay at Plutarch's.

She had clung to him, sobbing, when he'd come into her cell, shaking and terrified.

"I'm sorry for everything I ever did that was wrong," she cried. "Please don't let them imprison me. Please, I can't ever live in a cell again. I did it once, please don't make me live through that again. I'd rather they kill me."

He couldn't get her to stop trembling, he practically _carried_ her to Plutarch's, and then she was all over him, ripping at his clothes. He tried to stop her, she was deranged, insane, but he missed her so much and it'd probably be the last time anyway, so he pushed into her and tried to enjoy it for what it was.

She wrapped one leg around his waist and let her other leg balance them on the floor as he pumped into her, her head thrown back, her whimpers loud. It was… it made for mind-blowing sex: the rush, the adrenaline, the realization that they'd both escaped death on one too many occasions but they had _made_ it, and that _meant_ something.

He never wanted to exit out of her, but after he'd stayed buried inside of her and didn't move she gently pushed him away.

"Come back with me to Twelve," he had said, pulling her to him and burying his face into her neck.

She didn't answer. She just gently pushed him away, kissed him softly, and walked away from him.


	37. Chapter 37

**CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN**

 **Words: 2,218**

It was his last night in the Capitol. He'd gotten both Effie and Katniss off, and Paylor had told him that he'd be due to catch an early train out of the Capitol and back to 12. He was more than exhausted yet he couldn't sleep.

He heard the soft knock, and then he listened as the code to be let into his room was entered. A few seconds later his door opened and, after a brief hesitation, closed shut a few seconds later.

There's only one person in all of the Capitol who had the code to his room.

Her heels clicked on the cool floor, and despite the circumstances, he felt a smile tugging on his lips.

She was still his girl. Even after everything, from the torture, to the bruises, to the pain, sorrow, and fear, she still held on to a piece of who she once was.

She approached the bed, and he watched her under heavily lidded eyes.

"Haymitch?" she whispered into the night.

"I'm awake," responded Haymitch. He sat up, barely making out her silhouette, and reached over to turn on his lamp.

"Don't," she said, her body stiffening, and he lowered his hand.

"Effie?"

"I—I couldn't sleep," she admitted softly, "And I remembered… I know you never liked the dark. I thought maybe…."

He couldn't see it, but he knew she was blushing. He didn't respond. He just scooted over so she could climb in next to him, which she did once she slipped out of her heels and removed her robe.

She sat next to him, her hands in her lap, the air thick.

After a few moments Haymitch reached over to turn on the light. Again, she stopped him.

"I need to see you, Effie," he said, and he turned on the lamp. It was the first time he'd gotten a _real_ look at her in months, but particularly the past few weeks. Most of the time during her trial she looked so small and defeated that he couldn't even look at her. He wasn't allowed to visit her at all so he literally hadn't seen her since the day of Snow's – or Coin's – execution.

She was still void of any makeup, the wig and powdery face from earlier today gone. She'd had to cut her hair to make it even and it sat in a short bob on her head.

Her eyes were still vacant as she stared back at him and he had to bite back the anger.

Coin and Snow are dead, he reminded himself, and he swallowed, hard.

He wished he knew what to say. He had no words for her. But he wanted to say something, anything, really, because the silence was deafening.

"When I stood on that stage, all those months ago, knowing I had to send two you of you into that Arena, I just wanted all three of you to be safe," Effie finally told him.

"We are now. All of us."

Effie's eyes welled with tears, and then she was kissing him.

He jerked and gently pushed her away, looking into her eyes again. "Effie."

"Just once more," she whispered, and she cupped his cheeks, her voice husky.

"Are you sure?" His voice was strained, his nerves shot, and he desperately wished he had a drink.

She slithered on top of him and he felt his heart fail. She kissed him, running her fingers through his hair, making him moan.

Jesus he'd missed this, missed her.

They made short work of it. Her fingers quickly worked on his pajama bottoms and then she lifted her nightdress and slid down his length.

He hissed at the pleasure blinded him, but before he could start moving she reached over and turned off the light.

He didn't understand what that meant, and he didn't have time to dwell on it, because suddenly her hips were moving.

He started off slowly, because she was still so frail to him.

She moaned in his ear, then pushed back so she could look at him. "I'm not glass, Haymitch. I won't break. Please. God, please fill me."

Undone, he pulled her closer to him, thrusting his hips as she moved hers to meet his. She clawed at his back as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pushing her in deeper.

Gripping his hair she buried her face in his neck, crying out as the pleasure took over. She threw back her head, crying out into the night. Then, changing positions, she leaned back, gripping his knees and thrusting upwards.

"Fuck," groaned out Haymitch, and Effie bit her lip to keep herself from screaming as the next orgasm hit her.

They lost track of how much time passed. Their bodies became flush with perspiration, their voices hoarse from the verbal pleasure expressed. There were teeth marks shared between the two, love marks on their neck, their lips swollen and red from endless kisses.

She choked out his name as the last orgasm hit her, and he quickly followed, her name on his lips.

Completely spent they collapsed on the bed, breathing hard, a sticky, tangled mess.

It took several moments for their breathing to calm down. When their heartbeat slowed down Haymitch finally moved, turning the light back on.

"Haymitch," said Effie, gripping his arm, but once again he ignored her.

"I need to look at you." He needed to make sure that this was okay…. That she was okay.

"But I'm ugly."

He jerked at the words and sat up so that he could stare at her. "What'd you say?"

"I'm ugly."

"You were fucking tortured!"

Effie sighed and turned away from him. Then she said, her own voice quite cool, "You can't even look at me, Haymitch."

He was pretty positive he was going to snap. Just lose it. Off his rocker.

"You still have no clue," and his voice was ice. At his voice she turned and faced him. "I can't look at you because I hate myself, Effie. I hate knowing that you were two rooms away from Peeta and I never fucking knew it. I wasted so much time. If Coin or Plutarch had said anything—" He bit the inside of his jaw when he felt his emotions get the best of him. "I'm just scared we'll make eye contact and I'll see contempt in yours, like I used to."

"You… you blame yourself?"

He chewed on his lower lip for a moment, and then— "Of _course_ I blame myself! How stupid was I, to think you were safe? You were an Escort, damn it, they never should have fucking laid a hand on you. And it never once crossed my mind. When I finally found out I… I fucking lost it, Effie. I was ready to take down all of 13 to get to you. They didn't want me to, but I told Coin I'd kill them all if they tried to stop me."

She stared at him, astonished.

"You… you killed Snow, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"I never once even thought about blaming you, Haymitch. How could you think that about me? You were all that held me together. I knew you'd come for me."

"When you realized Peeta was gone…?"

Effie shook her head. "I had no clue Peeta was gone. I was beaten unconscious. Out of it for days." Haymitch felt the bile in his throat but swallowed it down. "I don't know why I wasn't killed."

"They thought we'd come back for you. They were right. But they weren't expecting Haymitch Abernathy, Victor of the 50th Hunger Game. If they thought for one second they'd be able to stop me." He smiled humorlessly. "Well… you see where they are, and where I am."

"You're still so brave, Haymitch."

"Now be brave for me, Effie," said Haymitch urgently. "Let me see you. And let me prove exactly how I feel about you."

She licked her lips. "Will you let me do the same for you?"

"I'll go first, Princess."

With trembling hands she lifted the shirt above his head. She stared into his gray eyes, Seam eyes verses Capitol eyes, and took him in.

The scar Katniss had given him had mostly disappeared.

He had other scars, though, faint over years of time. For the most part, however, he looked good. The Capitol had cleaned him up quite nicely.

Save for the single scar where District 1's Tribute had nearly killed him.

She'd never seen it before. Why would she have? They'd only slept together twice before, and both of those times were so spur of the moment that there was hardly any time for undressing.

She noticed small scrapes, nearly invisible now, along his arm, and she gasped when she saw his knuckles, big and swollen.

He earned those because of her.

She blushed as she took off his pants, feeling nearly like a virgin, though if anybody had ensured that Effie Trinket no longer had her innocence, it was Haymitch Abernathy. He hadn't been her first, or her second, but that was neither here nor there.

He'd probably be her last.

His legs had their fair share of scars as well, but nothing major.

Nothing like hers.

Before she started thinking about that, she kissed every single scar on his body.

By the time she was finished, his eyes were black with lust.

"I've never in my life had such an appreciation for my scars," Haymitch told her, and for the first time in a really long, Effie genuinely smiled.

He took his time with her. She was shaking, and he had to remind himself that she was not afraid of him. He peeled off her nightdress and tried to hold in his scowl.

It came out looking like a frown.

"Is that face supposed to make me feel better?" asked Effie, and the look he gave her had her shutting up.

She was still much too thin for his liking. He'd never wanted to fix people up before. How many Tributes had been too thin, too small, too frail? But this was Effie Trinket, darling of the Capitol, and the strips of burned flesh, the black and blue skin, the scar left from her surgery to repair broken bones… it nearly broke him.

She tried to stay still as he placed her down, taking her in from head to toe. He did not kiss her. Instead he trailed a calloused finger along each scar, counting them.

When he was finished he swallowed his anger, realizing he was just happy she was alive.

"You're still beautiful, Effie. You're alive, so you've never looked better to me."

This time she allowed him to be gentle, because she understood he needed this, like she had needed it the last time. He took his time with her, never taking his eyes off of her, aside from the few times he buried his face in her neck.

"Effie," he quietly whimpered, and her body responded on its own accord.

She choked out his name as she came, and he planted soft kisses on her lips, speeding up slightly, and sliding in deeper, in hopes that she'd cum again for him.

He gripped her hand, tightly, trying to hold on for a few more moments. He wanted this to last forever, even though he knew it couldn't.

He cursed quietly and erupted, lights exploding around his eyes as she clenched around his length.

He did not choke out his 'I love you,' even as it was on his lips.

He stared at her, still breathing hard, and for the first time saw an emotion present in Effie's eyes: sadness.

And he knew.

"You're still gonna stay, aren't you?"

"I have to."

He kept his face neutral, his eyes guarded, like he'd been taught all those years ago at the start of the Rebellion. Only after he rolled off of her did he frown into the ceiling.

"You know there's always a place for you in 12."

"Don't worry about me, Haymitch. Just take care of our Mockingjay. And yourself."

"Don't tell me not to worry about you, Effie," and his tone had her staring at him.

She caressed his stubble-filled cheek. "Do you honestly think I could stay away forever?" Haymitch didn't answer. "Don't drink yourself to death. Buy a pet or something. I had an uncle from the country who raised geese."

" _Geese_?" He eyed her like she had three heads.

"Just do something that'll help you pass the time until I return. I'll heal, Haymitch. I'll be damned if I let them win. But imagine how royally pissed I'll be if I get to 12 and realize you've drank yourself to death?"

He finally slid under the covers, tucking Effie in as well. "Geese, huh?"

"Or sheep. Or get a dog. I don't care." Her voice started to get thick with sleep. "I don't want your only companion to be the bottle."

Her eyes fluttered closed and he turned off the light.

It'd be their last time together, for God knows how long, and he was intent on enjoying it.

When nightmares plagued her, he was there, comforting her with his lips and body.

And maybe one day, when she was ready, she'd let him comfort her with his heart.


	38. Chapter 38

**This was "Of Crystals, Glass, and Reflections" in 'Loosen Your Corset, Princess,' and I always thought it was meant for He's Fire. Of course I changed a few things, but not by much. This is the last chapter. The next chapter is the epilogue! Thanks to all of you who've been following along.**

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Words: 2,016

With shaking hands Effie attempted to place the key in her door. It took her several tries, but finally she succeeded. She walked inside the apartment, wondering how it had remained remarkably the same when everything else was so different. She took a tentative step forward, looking around.

She would have never known Plutarch had been here, had Haymitch not shown up in her hospital room with a bag full of her things—the bag Plutarch had given him, full of the things from her closet.

The only thing that had changed was the occupant.

She walked through the foyer, staring at the oversized pictures of herself. She had had some of her favorite pictures of herself blown up and framed to the wall. They were old pictures, all of them black and white, and they'd all been taken before she'd become an Escort.

She was happy in those pictures.

She had a lot of pretty things, she realized. Her apartment was bright and cheery—nothing like that cell she had been in for the past few months. The walls were neutral, but that was because the furniture stood out. Ebony wood floors against posh white furniture. Depending on the time of the year she'd change out her accessories colors, making sure they matched with the seasons. Right now her accents were tiffany blue: there were vases, marbles, flowers, paintings, pillows, and shams, all in the turquoise blue color.

They were out of season now, though.

There were crystals and mirrors everywhere: a crystal chandelier in the center of her living room, glittering the sun's reflection; a bowl full of tiffany blue and glass blue crystals; a large glass coffee table; a large accent mirror; two mirrored side tables.

Effie avoided her reflection, passing her bright kitchen, and headed towards her bedroom. The hallway was narrow, but long, and was filled with more pictures, this time of beautiful and fashionable women she had always admired: Audrey Hepburn, Jackie O, Dorothy Dandridge, Meryl Streep, Lupita Nyong'o, Lucille Ball, Michelle Obama, Maureen O'Hara, Lena Horne. Countless women who had made a difference in the world.

Women she had wanted to be like.

But not like this. She hadn't wanted it like this.

When Effie reached her bedroom she paused outside the closed door for several moments. Then, taking a deep breath, she opened her bedroom door. It was spacious, chic, sophisticated, and bright. The entire left wall was made of windows, from the ceiling to the floor. This was the reason she'd bought this apartment. For the view.

Not _this_ view. Not the view that still showed smoking buildings and destruction and _death_.

She had spent many years looking out this very window, in this very spot, wishing the Capitol was a different place, that someone would take Snow out and Panem would be free. She used to dream about democracy, and voting on a leader, or impeaching one who was unfit, and having rights.

But not like this.

She hadn't wanted it like this.

Effie looked up at the crystal chandelier. It used to be her absolute favorite thing about her room. It was over-the-top and pretty and shiny, and everything that Effie loved. It was custom made. She'd gone to Tiffany's and had helped the jewelers design this chandelier.

And now it showed a skewed version of her reflection.

Effie looked away and her eyes rested on her en suite bathroom. It too was large and spacious, and bright. There was a bay window next to the claw foot club. Plush rugs. Double sinks. Granite counter tops that matched her kitchen.

And a large mirror that was the size of the main wall.

Taking another deep breath Effie finally turned and looked at herself.

Her gold wig was crooked, but she suspected no one who had seen her cared. She'd been wearing the same wig for a week. Plutarch hadn't bought her any more options. She had never suspected that Katniss would shoot Coin, and would have to await trial. She had been forbidden to leave Plutarch's, so she was stuck wearing the same wig and clothes.

Her suit was slightly wrinkled, and hung off her body. She couldn't fit it anymore. The makeup had been carelessly applied, and she could just make out where her hands had started shaking, moments before the panic attack hit her.

Before she had to get Katniss prepped.

Effie stared at herself, stared at the woman in the clown suit.

That's what Haymitch used to call it.

 _Haymitch_.

The tears filled her eyes then, as she thought of her Mentor. The man that was so much more than a Mentor to her. The Mentor who she now knew saw her as more than an Escort. She'd waited fifteen years for him to notice that she'd changed, that she was _different_ , and it took him nearly losing her to really get it.

Fifteen years of waiting on him to get it, and when she'd finally had the chance to love him, she'd turned down his invitation.

Now she was here, all alone, and Haymitch was halfway back to 12, Katniss in tow.

She knew she hadn't made a mistake. She couldn't go back with him, not now. Not yet. One day, she figured. She'd waited for fifteen years. He could wait a few. For now, she needed to figure out who she was.

And as she stared at her reflection, she knew at the very least who she _wasn't_.

She _hated_ the woman she was looking at.

She shocked herself when her fist smashed into the mirror, but she didn't even really feel the pain. She kept hitting the mirror until pieces started to fall. She took both hands, balling them into fists, as the anger, the disgust, consumed her, and her knuckles were bloody.

When her wall mirror was finally destroyed she sunk down the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. She ripped off her wig, throwing it across the room, vowing she'd never wear any of it again.

 **XxXxXx**

Effie wasn't sure how long she stayed on her bathroom floor. Days passed, for sure. She heard her phone ringing, but never bothered to get up and answer it. It wasn't like it'd be Haymitch. Sometimes she thought she heard a faint knocking on her door, but she couldn't tell if it was just her head or not. She'd had a headache for hours.

Eventually her thirst won out. She could care less about eating. She hadn't eaten properly in months. Haymitch had encouraged her to eat little portions, and to never overeat, but she felt like she'd never be able to eat again.

But the thirst? The desire for water? That was undeniable, and she'd been denied the ability to drink for far two long. Her body shaking, Effie finally slowly got up and made her way to the kitchen, discarding the heels before she did. She drank to her heart's content, and then burst into tears.

 **XxXxXx**

Time passes. Months, eventually a year. Some days she didn't leave her bed for hours. Other times weeks. She slipped in out of reality, spending a lot of days locked inside her own head.

She didn't eat.

She hardly slept.

When she did sleep she was plagued with nightmares.

She briefly thought about those little blue pills her mother had given her all those years ago. She was pretty sure she had a bottle in her medicine cabinet, but it seemed so far away. It wasn't worth her getting out of bed to fetch.

Nothing was worth getting out of bed for.

Her parents came around every now and then. Not often. She didn't want them to. She didn't want to be around them. They didn't know that she'd been tortured. They'd be horrified—not at what she'd gone through, but at whose side she was on.

Her parents didn't make much of an effort to get Effie to come around, and she was okay with that. She didn't want their pity. She didn't want to see their frowns and sorrowful faces. Nor did she want to hear her mother chastise her for moping around, looking the way she did.

The only useful thing they did was fix her bathroom mirror.

The phone still rang a lot. Oftentimes it went unanswered. When she did find the strength to answer, she found herself talking to Annie and Johanna. Johanna surprised her the most. They had never really gotten along, but they'd shared a cell for a while. She put on a brave front for a while, but if anyone understood her, it was them, even if her pain couldn't amount to theirs.

She always said she'd visit, but it was an empty promise. They knew it, and she knew it.

One day Effie felt the urge to get out of bed. She wasn't sure what happened. She literally woke up one morning, the sun shining brightly, and decided that today was going to be different.

Enough time had passed now. At least a couple of years, maybe more.

The first thing she did was go to the bathroom. Her new mirror—smaller, a true vanity mirror—showed a woman with haunted eyes, matted hair, and chapped lips. She drew herself a bath, staying immersed in the water until she resembled a prune. She combed and washed her hair until her mane resembled the soft curls she used to know.

She got out of the tub, dried herself off, and looked at herself again. She had scars. Lots of scars. Most of them faded, but some of them remained. Even more would fade over time, but some of them were permanent. She still looked unhealthy. Her cheeks were hallow, her skin slightly yellow. Her hands shook as she continued brushing her hair.

One hundred strokes, Mother always said.

She willed herself on.

She slipped on her robe and walked to her computer and ordered several thousand dollars worth of new clothes that'd be delivered to her doorstep tomorrow.

Afterwards she made herself a salad, briefly wondering who the hell had been buying her groceries. She thought she remembered Plutarch coming in and out every now and then, but who the hell knew? Tomorrow she would go the grocery store and get the things she liked.

After lunch she made her way to her walk-in closet and looked around. So many dresses and wigs and jewelry. It overwhelmed her, and she could feel herself starting to slip away, so she left, closing the door behind her. She'd try again tomorrow.

When her new clothes arrived she put all of them in her guest bedroom. Then she attempted to clean out her closet again, using the boxes that her new clothes came in. She had only finished a third of her closet when the need for food forced her to stop. She showered and dressed in one of the new, simple dresses she had ordered, grabbed a pair of designer shades, and slipped on a pair of heels—some things would never change—and left her apartment for the first time in nine months.

She could feel the stares as she walked, and they made her uncomfortable. Some times she'd sneak into an alley and cry until there were no more tears.

But as the months passed, she found she didn't really care all that much anymore.

She started talking to Annie and Johanna. They seemed relieved that she was finally reaching out to them. She started to get better. They planned a trip for her to come out there, one she really meant to take this time.

They planned it to happen in a couple of months, in the summer, when 4 would be nice.

When she finally finished cleaning out her closet, late one night, she took a deep breath, and smiled. The shelter would have another several dozen boxes donated to them tomorrow.

She wiped her hands on her dress and made her way to the bathroom. Like she did every night, she stared at herself in the mirror. She smiled at herself, but it was still forced. Her eyes were still sorrowful.

She was disappointed. She just knew once she had gotten rid of all her old things she'd be happy again.

She was _counting_ on happy, damn it.

But she wasn't happy. She wasn't happy because she was lonely.

She wondered if Annie and Johanna would mind if she came a few weeks early.


	39. Epilogue

EPILOGUE

Words: 2,199

Effie stepped off the train, looking around. The station was packed as it was late afternoon, and since people were allowed to travel between Districts now, this time was quite busy.

She made her way through the crowd, suitcase in hand, slightly nervous, and started walking in the familiar direction.

Even now, three years after the Rebellion, nobody in District 12 drove.

The Town was abuzz with action. People were moving about, shopping, talking, laughing. A baby was crying in the near distance. The Town was rebuilt for the most part, aside from the hospital towering over all the other buildings. Even with the hustle and bustle of the crowds, she still felt and saw the stares. She knew she still stood out like a sore thumb here, even with her Seam gray dress—one of the many Cinna had designed for her over the year they had known each other, which were released to her in his will.

It's not like she wore the wigs still. She got rid of them all, with the exception of her Mockingjay wig, which she kept as a reminder.

She'd earned that wig.

Granted she did have on a pair of charcoal gray heels, and a matching scarf was tied around her waist to give it a splash of pizzazz, but for the most part, she looked nothing like the Capitol Escort she used to be.

Still, she understood that she stood out, even if people dressed with more color and variety now.

One would think that she could fit in with the Town, with her blonde hair and blue eyes, but Effie was sure that she screamed Capitol.

She kept her eyes straight ahead, though, unbothered.

She was not here for them.

Effie made her way down the familiar path to Victor's Village, her heart pounding faster with every step, barely taking in how much the District had changed in the past few years.

When she reached the gates to Victors Village she paused, taking a deep breath.

She could do this.

The first thing she noted were the yards full of dandelions and primroses, blossoming beautifully in the Springtime air.

She smiled. Peeta's doing, of course.

The houses here were lived in now. She remembered Paylor mentioning that all the Victor houses in each District were lived in.

She walked passed the house she knew belonged to Katniss and Peeta's and made her way to the house she'd walked into so many times before, pausing in shock.

It looked different.

Well kept.

Lived in.

Loved, even.

Not at all the broken down, pitiful house she had seen for twenty years.

She walked up the steps, noting the two rocking chairs and the table in between them, a vase full of flowers on top.

She wasn't sure if she should knock or not. Before she would have just walked in, but so much had changed….

Finally Effie decided to knock, and did so several times, but no one answered.

Taking a deep breath she decided to walk in.

She looked around, her mouth dropping open in astonishment. It looked so different. New floors. Painted walls. Curtains. Flowers. Was she in the right house?

"Haymitch?" she called softly, and she didn't get a reply.

That's when she heard it. A laugh.

A woman's laugh.

Her heart stopped.

She walked towards the sound, noting the open backdoor, and stared into Haymitch's backyard.

She didn't notice the geese.

Just the man.

The man embracing a woman.

Another woman.

A woman that wasn't her.

She and the woman locked eyes, Capitol, ocean blue against District 4 sea green.

Somehow, she found the strength to turn around and leave.

 **XxXxXx**

"Haymitch," the woman whispered. "Someone's here."

"What?"

"There was someone here, a second ago. She just left."

Haymitch stared at the woman and then made his way into his house, his hand already clutching his knife.

He noticed his front door open and walked towards it, stepping out into the afternoon air, the woman right behind him.

He looked towards the gate, and saw her.

And stared.

Blonde hair. Slim waist. Head high.

Heels.

A large suitcase.

Suddenly his mouth was dry as he made his way down his front steps, blinking rapidly.

"Effie?" he called.

She stopped.

 **XxXxXx**

She slowly turned around once she heard him approaching.

At that moment a gust of wind blew her hair into her face, and she absentmindedly moved it away, her breath catching in her throat at the sight of him approaching her like she was a bloody ghost.

"Hello, Haymitch," she said quietly once he stood in front of her.

He just stared.

More like gaped, really.

He took in her face, his eyes looking her over, and then his hands—those glorious, wonderfully calloused hands, hands that had been all over body at one point—cupped her cheeks, so tenderly that she was temporarily rendered speechless.

"Haymitch?" called the other woman, but Haymitch ignored her.

"Effie," he whispered again.

"I'm so sorry for coming by unannounced, without calling or writing first," said Effie, looking behind him and locking eyes with the other woman. "That was incredibly forward and rude of me."

"Rude?"

"I didn't realize I was intruding." Again, she looked over his shoulder at the brunette woman.

She was beautiful.

"Intruding?" asked Haymitch, frowning.

"Yes. I can see you're… preoccupied."

He dropped his hands and just stared at her. She broke eye contact to look at the woman again.

"What do you keep looking at?" He glanced behind him and noticed the other woman, and his mouth widened. When he turned back to her he looked amused. "What, you mean preoccupied with her?"

Effie frowned. "I'm sure the woman has a name."

"That's just Cotton, Effie. She's a neighbor."

"Neighbor or not I know the look in her eyes. She's into you."

"I don't give a flying fuck what she's into," Haymitch said. "If you think for one second another woman holds a candle to you—"

At that moment the woman—Cotton—approached them, smiling tightly.

"You must be Effie," Cotton said.

"Yes. How do you do?" asked Effie.

"I was actually just leaving."

"Oh, please don't."

Cotton shook her head and smiled sadly. "I was offered a job in 6, so I'm heading back. I was just saying goodbye to Haymitch before my train left."

Effie felt her heart start to beat again.

"I've got a few more minutes to kill. Can I show you something?"

Cotton grabbed Effie's hand and the two women headed back towards Haymitch's. Effie glanced behind her, locking eyes with Haymitch, hers puzzled, his confused.

Once inside Cotton smiled. "You have nothing to worry about. Haymitch has been waiting on you since the day I met him."

"You're in love with him," Effie said, not unkindly.

"I am. But he's never noticed. We're barely even friends. The only reason you caught me hugging him is because he lost a bet with me in a card game, and I said if I win he had to hug me goodbye. I'm pretty positive the only reason he even tolerated me is because you taught him how to do so."

Effie looked around. "Seems like a woman's touch."

"He redecorated about a year ago. Take a look around. What do you see?"

"A man who's no longer broken," muttered Effie, and Cotton laughed.

"Let me tell you what I see." She stomped her foot on the ground. "Mahogany floors." She walked up to the drapes. "Curtains, the color of your hair." She touched the walls. "Paint, the color of your eyes." She motioned to the table, holding a vase of—"Cherry blossoms." Cotton turned to her. "It took me to right now to figure it out, but that's your scent."

Effie blushed. "I've been wearing this scent since I was eighteen."

Cotton nodded. "You're everywhere. Even in the painting he had Peeta paint for him." Cotton pointed to the artwork on top of the fireplace. There was the Mockingjay symbol, in flames, burning, in the center, and the beach—the ocean—underneath it.

Fire and ocean.

"I'm taking this job in 6 because there's no point in staying here. Haymitch doesn't see me that way. He doesn't see _anyone_ that way. Except you, at least." Cotton looked her over. "I'm glad you came. He's missed you."

At that moment the door opened, and Haymitch walked in. Cotton walked up to him, grabbing a duffle bag near the door that Effie hadn't noticed earlier.

"I guess I don't need to tell you to take care of yourself," she told him, smiling, and then she glanced at Effie. "I suppose there's already somebody here to do that for you. Take care, Haymitch."

She slipped passed him, and left, leaving Haymitch and Effie alone.

Haymitch closed his door and looked at her. "Do I even wanna know what that was about?"

Effie shrugged. "Girl talk."

Silence.

"What are you doing here, Effie?"

Effie smiled. "I honestly have no idea." The tears came, just like that. "I was supposed to be on my way to 4 to visit Johanna, Annie, and Finn. We've been planning this trip for _months_. I just need to get away, you know? The Capitol…." Effie shook her head. "I still hate it there. So many horrible memories." She actually shivered. "Anyway, I head to the station to get my ticket, only instead of saying 4, I end up saying 12 and… here I am," she finished lamely.

Haymitch just stared at her, unmoving, unblinking, until she couldn't take it anymore.

"Should I leave?"

"Do you wanna leave?"

"No," she told him truthfully. "But I'd never stay where I'm not wanted."

He didn't say anything. He just walked up to her, cupping her cheeks again. "What the fuck took you so long?" And that's when she noticed it: the gold bangle, around his arm. Effie laughed out a sob and pulled him to her, dropping her suitcase. "Do you know how many times those kids had to stop me from going to Capitol and bringing you here? At least twice a day."

"Haymitch," she whispered, and then they were kissing, and she was crying, and she never wanted to let him go again.

"You're killing me, Princess," murmured Haymitch against her lips. "I don't know how someone can make me hate them and love them at the same damn time." Her stomach flipped at those words. "You're fucking maddening, you know that?" He kissed her neck. "Insane." He nibbled her ear. "You'll drive me to drink again, and we'll probably kill each other."

She sunk her lips into his and heard him moan.

She missed that sound.

"I'm sorry," she whispered against his neck.

"I forgive you." He pulled her back so he could look at her. "I forgive you for staying away for so long. Just don't leave again, okay?"

His eyes were brilliantly black as he looked at her, smoldering coal.

Burning coal.

And he thought he could drown in her eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere, Haymitch," she promised him.

At that moment a loud _honk_ made her jump. She spun around, confused.

"Oh. That's just the geese."

"The…?" She looked at him, and then turned her head towards the backdoor, and then looked back at him. "You didn't."

"I needed _something_. Isn't that what you said?"

Effie threw back her head and laughed. "What am I going to do with you?" she asked fondly.

At that moment he picked her up. "I've no idea," responded Haymitch huskily. "But let me show you what I'm going to do _to_ you."

She never understood how they made it up the stairs and into his bedroom—with yellow painted walls, no less.

But when they fell onto the bed, laughing, touching, sighing, moaning and groaning, Effie figured that everything they had gone through was made completely worth it by this moment.

He stayed alive, she had her Victors, and they were healing.

And when nightmares plagued them at night, when the memories of what they had lived through haunted them, they tried their hardest to fix each other, mind body and spirit.

They had their issues, but damn it they worked, even if it didn't make sense, or wasn't logical.

She never burned due to his flames, and she never soaked his glow. They seemed, on the outside looking in, like total and complete opposites, as if they would never make it.

But they _did_ work, and their union was wondrous to behold.

Like fire, and how it floated on the ocean.

 _ **OMG! THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO FOLLOWED ALONG WITH THIS STORY! I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED IT! THANKS FOR ALL THE REVIEWS AND FOR STICKING WITH ME UNTIL THE END. IN THE MEANTIME, CONTINUE TO ENJOY LOOSEN YOUR CORSET, PRINCESS, AND I HOPE YOU ALL STAY WITH ME AS I START MY RICHONNE/TWD STORIES. TAKE CARE MI AMORE'S.**_


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